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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26181184">Can we survive this Demon?</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/order_n_chaos/pseuds/order_n_chaos'>order_n_chaos</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Nothing Can Tear Us Apart - DAY6 Mafia AU [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Day6 (Band)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Gangsters, Alternative Universe - Mafia, Angst, Blood and Gore, Established Relationship, Fluff, I forgot to tag Dowoon, Jealous Younghyun, Jealousy, M/M, On the Run, Panic Attacks, Recreational Drug Use, Smut, former mobster Jae, former mobster Younghyun, hitman Wonpil, hooker Dowoon, mob boss Sungjin</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 04:53:30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>25,450</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26181184</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/order_n_chaos/pseuds/order_n_chaos</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Three years after Jae left the mob for a peaceful life, his old life suddenly knocks on his door and brings with it the bad and the ugly. And because it’s Wonpil who needs his help, Jae can’t exactly say ‘no’ – much to his fiancé’s dismay.</p><p>Or: the <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24135109/chapters/58110604">mafia AU continues</a>, and Jae, once again, finds a half-dead man in his living room (and, this time, struggles hard at keeping Younghyun by his side.)</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Kang Younghyun | Young K/Park Jaehyung | Jae, Kim Wonpil &amp; Park Jaehyung | Jae, Kim Wonpil/Park Sungjin, Kim Wonpil/Yoon Dowoon</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Nothing Can Tear Us Apart - DAY6 Mafia AU [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1898395</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>34</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Intro: We cross each other again like this</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Well, well, well. What do we have here?</p><p>Welcome to this second multi-chapter monstrosity that I try to make shorter than the other one.</p><p>This fic is a continuation of the last one and it will be heavily Jae-centric again. It is first and foremost a Jaehyungparkian fic, but-- I love Wonpil. And because Wonpil has a past that we all very much would love to know of, we'll finally get Wonpil's past. Buckle up, this is going to be another ride.</p><p>Oh, and the <b>updates won't be regular.</b> I could upload the first story weekly because I had it already written when I started to publish it, this one, though, I only have three chapters written by now? And I am currently very busy with university and work and stuff, so bear with me!</p><p>Work title by Day6 - Demon Teaser - Chapter title by Day6 - Day and Night</p><p>Song recommendation: <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0j18bJ4zo8E">Kard - GUNSHOT</a></p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Fuck!”</p><p>The curse echoes between the buildings. Rain patters against the ground, falling heavily down, only seen in the light of a lone lamppost. Darkness blankets the small alleyway, all quiet except for the rain.</p><p>Until it isn’t anymore.</p><p>Quick steps are running faster and stepping loudly into one puddle after another. A body sacks to the floor, another kneels right next to it.</p><p>“You have to get up,” one man says to the other on the floor. He tugs on his arm to haul him over to the small alcove that is hidden from the scarce light and searching gazes. “They’re directly behind us!”</p><p>The other man puffs a breath and then another. His breathing is heavy while his hand clutches over his side and presses harder against the tearing pain. His hand is covered in red, a color that bleeds through his shirt and grows wider with every ticking second. “We’re not… that afar anymore…”</p><p>“Don’t talk,” the first one chides him sharply and then presses them against the wall. Steps suddenly get louder and louder. His hand reaches behind to pull his gun out of his pants and then a knife that is hidden right next to it. His other hand clasps over the bleeding man’s mouth to silence his heavy breathing.</p><p>Closer and closer. There are two of them. They wait with bathed breath. Time passes. Rain falls. Thunder strikes.</p><p>A heavy breath of relief leaves them when searching guys pass without suspicion.</p><p>“Wonpil.” The bleeding man reaches for the standing man and pulls him down to him. His fingers leave behind a bloody print on his dark jacket before he caresses Wonpil’s cheek and pushes his hair behind his ear. “Leave me behind.”</p><p>Wonpil’s eyes widen at the whispered command. Usually he would obey every word this man commands him but not today. Not when he bleeds in a street where people are looking for them to end their lives. “Are you out of your mind?! I won’t leave you—”</p><p>Wonpil’s words get cut off by lips suddenly pressing against his in a clumsy yet chaste kiss. The lips are chapped and taste metallic, and Wonpil needs a few seconds to realize what exactly is happening. Once his brain catches up with the reality of this fucked up situation, he softly pushes the man back and really looks at him. His bangs hang in his eyes, his lips are red with blood, his eyes half-lidded and deep black rings beneath it. A man on the brink of death.</p><p>“What—” He doesn’t know what to say. This isn’t the right place nor the right time to even think about what is happening right now. He has a dying man in front of him and at least five people chasing them. “I won’t leave you behind. You’re my—”</p><p>“Boss. Who very much appreciates everything you’ve done for me,” the man whispers with a small smile playing around his lips. “But now you need to leave. You’ll die if you have to drag me around. And look at me, I am pretty much dead.”</p><p>“I already told you—”</p><p>Once again, he gets cut off. This time, though, by the return of steps echoing through the alcove. The bleeding man pushes him away with a small smile on his face before it contorts in pain as he tries to get up on his own. Wonpil is instantly by his side and tries to help him up. He is caught off-guard – something that usually never happens to him – when his boss steals his gun and releases the safety.</p><p>“Save yourself, please. I don’t have a chance to survive this, but you do.” His boss’s hand that had rested over his wound before pushes Wonpil’s strands behind his ear again. His fingers linger a few moments on his cheek and caress the long cut along his cheek. Instead of wiping away the blood even more red paints his face now.</p><p>Wonpil is rooted to the spot by the sweet and endearing gesture from that man. Not once in the years they’ve known each other had his boss done such a thing. He isn’t the type to touch anyone, even punishes those who do it regardless of his reputation as a skinship hater.</p><p>Death brings out the best and worst in people, Wonpil knows that very well as a hitman. That is what tears his heart even more apart. That and that he still can’t deny his boss a word.</p><p>“There are train tickets and money in the backpack. The address is saved on the burner phone, so you should find it easily. I’ll try to distract them.”</p><p>His boss leans in for another kiss but stops short and chuckles. He utters a small sorry under his breath before he pushes Wonpil into the other direction than he himself staggers to, all without listening to what Wonpil is trying to tell him.</p><p>And Wonpil can only stare at his boss’s back before he swallows heavily and then bolts out of the street. Rain flows down from his face like tears, washing away the blood on his face but not all of it. But maybe they are tears after all, especially when Wonpil hears the tell-tale sound of a gun going off not afar from him.</p><p>“Fuck,” he curses again under his breath and clenches his teeth together.</p><p>~~~</p><p>“Fuck!”</p><p>A loud moan follows the curse that is then followed by a giggle. Their lips widen with smiles as soon as they try to latch onto each other to kiss and explore. One of them bites while the other darts his tongue out and reels back the last minute; their playful kisses occasionally broken by huffs or groans.</p><p>“You want the neighbors to hear us?” The other man chuckles into his mouth while he snatches his hip up and pounds into him hard. When he doesn’t get an answer, he stops his movement and grins at the whine that he gets from his lover.</p><p>“Dude, why’d you stop? As if it’s anything new that we fuck each other. We’re the gay couple of the block. Even Mrs. Brown loves us, and that woman is ninety-four.” He gets a raised eyebrow from his boyfriend. Fiancé. But pssh, they haven’t told that anyone yet. “What?”</p><p>“You really have to call me dude while I fuck you senseless?”</p><p>“Senseless? I can still ta—ah!” He can’t even finish his sentence with the sudden thrust into his hole. “Jesus, give a guy a warning.”</p><p>“First dude and now Jesus? I prefer Younghyun, though. You talk too much, Jae.”</p><p>And then Younghyun finally, fucking finally continues to fuck him good. Jae doesn’t mind that he’s loud enough for his neighbors to hear them. There is no shame in having a healthy love (sex) life even though there is some neighborhood barbeque right next door.</p><p>He and Younghyun had already been on their way over when Younghyun accidentally spilled his coke over Jae’s white shirt. One thing led to another (Jae, trying to change his shirt, got attacked by Younghyun while doing so, that’s what happened. Not that he’s complaining. He rarely bottoms but once he does, Younghyun makes it worth every second), and now they’re here, on their bed, stark naked, sweaty and sticky as soon as Jae comes between them.</p><p>Younghyun takes his hand off Jae’s throat and uses it to pull Jae’s head up to press his lips against his and swallow every moan that spills out of Jae’s mouth. The harsh pounding slows down to a soft gyrating as Younghyun starts to lick into Jae’s mouth with fervor.</p><p>“We have a barbeque to attend to,” Jae reminds him between kisses and pushes Younghyun’s hip with his leg.</p><p>Younghyun doesn’t seem to agree. “Hmm, they surely won’t miss us. I want to spend the day with you in bed.”</p><p>He noses along Jae’s throat and starts to press butterfly kisses onto his skin. It tickles and makes Jae giggle again. But enough is enough, so Jae presses his thighs against Younghyun’s hips and quickly rolls them around. He can feel Younghyun’s cock deeper in him when he slowly sits up. It hurts a bit with him being overstimulated at this point, though Jae plans to make this as quick as possible.</p><p>Younghyun’s hands snatch to Jae’s hips when the older starts to ride him – quick and hard. Jae relishes in the moans and groans that Younghyun delivers. He slaps the younger’s hand away when he sneakily tries to grab for Jae’s dick. When he tries it again, Jae presses his hand into the mattress next to Younghyun’s head and glares darkly at him.</p><p>“Leave it or I’ll leave.”</p><p>A feisty smirk grows on Younghyun’s lips. He snaps after Jae when the older draws back the last second, a challenge in Younghyun’s gaze. “I love it when you’re like that. It’s so hot.”</p><p>Jae returns the grin and speeds up his pace, fucking himself on Younghyun’s cock and regretting that he hadn’t done so earlier. He wishes he could come a second time but with his neighbors waiting for them to start the annual barbeque, not much time is left for them to finally grace them with their presence. And Jae isn’t evil enough to leave Younghyun all hot and bothered.</p><p>When Younghyun comes silently but with eyes that roll up until only white is left to see, Jae marvels at the sight that is Younghyun in his most bare beauty. He is pretty like that, all tanned skin and deep blue hair, cheeks that got rounder the last two years and scars that are barely visible anymore. His fingers skim over the big scar on his abdomen and then over to the one above his heart, and Jae leans down to press lingering, soft kisses against them.</p><p>Those scars are part of a memory that Jae tries hard to forget, they are part of a life that they both left years ago. A life full of deceit, blood and death. A life that had nearly costed them both everything.</p><p>When Younghyun’s fingers suddenly intertwine with Jae’s, the older looks up and sees that Younghyun watches him with a fond yet melancholic gaze. Two years of talking and healing and more talking lies behind them so that they can finally start a new life together as Jae and Younghyun, soon-to-be husbands instead of drug lord and hitman. Mobsters in retirement, Younghyun had once joked.</p><p>“Let’s go. The neighbors are waiting.”</p><p>A small smile and nearly every bad thought vanishes.</p><p>“I love you, Younghyunnie.”</p><p>“Love you, too, hyung.”</p><p>~~~</p><p>“Man, I love this steak!”</p><p>Jae watches with an amused face how Younghyun scarves down his second plate while he himself enjoys the small moment of quietness. After talking to nearly every resident of their neighborhood, Jae needs a small time-off. And what better way to spend his time than watching Younghyun eating healthily?</p><p>“I bought it from the new butcher downtown.”</p><p>Sometimes it’s hard to believe how normal their lives have become. Only three years ago he was hating Younghyun with all of his heart while he tried to run away from Seoul and his mobster family because Jae just couldn’t do it anymore. He had tainted his hands with blood, actually killed two people himself down the line, and had even more deaths under his belt counting in all of his kill orders.</p><p>People here believe that Jae is just some man who fled from Korea to finally be together with the man he loves. For them, he is that nice guy next door who worked his way up as a barista in a small coffee shop downtown to a manager of his own small store. And that he plays a lot of music that he sometimes sells to record labels or puts online for a small audience to enjoy.</p><p>Innocent and with a kind soul, that’s what they’d describe Jae as. Not as a cold-blooded killer. If they knew what Jae had already done in his life, oh boy. But imagine their reactions if they knew about Younghyun.</p><p>Born into the mobster life as the heir of their former mob, a position he had gladly given up for his friend to take, Younghyun was raised to be hitman. He was good at his job, a side that scares Jae to this day. If Jae has a lot of blood on his hands, then Younghyun has a red sea to call his own.</p><p>It’s funny how the people love Younghyun a little bit more than Jae, and Jae can’t be mad at them for that. Younghyun has that charming look to him that makes him seem innocent and so much nicer than he actually is. Younghyun is an idealist and a dreamer, something Jae admires him for. But, at the same time, he is grounded and filled with so much guilt and regret. Not for killing people, no, that ship sailed a long time ago. Younghyun feels guilty for all the things he’d done to Jae.</p><p>But, as Jae likes to stress, the past is the past and it should stay like that.</p><p>Now they are just Younghyun and Jae, sales manager and accountant at day, lovers and fiancés at night. The ring around Jae’s finger is a welcomed warmth added to the Californian heat in late May.</p><p>“What’chu thinking ‘bout?” Younghyun asks him with a full mouth and looks up to him with those wide, childlike eyes that melt Jae’s heart instantly.</p><p>Jae smiles lightly at him. A sense of melancholy and longing betrays the happiness he tries to portray. “I still can’t believe that we pulled it off. Leaving Seoul all cloak-and-dagger.”</p><p>“You’d worked hard for it,” Younghyun reminds him fondly. Jae is thankful that he doesn’t remind him on the fact that Jae had practically left him there to die, a guilt that is Jae’s to carry for the rest of his life. But somehow, it only balances out that equilibrium of their relationship: cruelties done to each other for the sole purpose of Jae’s mental health, both plans that had backfired one way or another.</p><p>Jae chuckles wetly at the many memories that surface in that moment. “Imagine how they’d react if they knew that we’re going to marry.”</p><p>Warmth fills Jae’s chest at the prospect of telling his old friends that he and Younghyun were finally able to find solace in each other. That their love prospered into something beautiful and innocent instead of constantly being overshadowed by the sins of their world. Once Jae had viewed their relationship as a deep, dark sea that swallowed him further with every committed crime, whereas now it feels more like the burning sun high up in the sky.</p><p>“Well, they’d be over the moon,” Younghyun speaks exactly what Jae thinks they’d do. However, where Jae is thinking about his friends in some nostalgic manner, Younghyun does so with a sense of freedom and closure. He has always been better at that than Jae, finding closure and moving on. “I mean, Wonpil and Dowoon would probably plan our wedding instantly while Sungjin would grin at us with that smug ‘finally’ expression.”</p><p>“Do you think Wonpil and Dowoon are still together?”</p><p>Younghyun shrugs his shoulders. He pushes his now empty plate away from him and reaches for Jae’s hand to hold it softly between his fingers. “Why not? Dowoon had been crushing on him ever since and Wonpil falls deeply once he deems them as loveable.”</p><p>“Really? I mean, Wonpil falls rather quickly for anyone who pays him enough attention—”</p><p>“He wasn’t in love with me.” Younghyun blinks at him irritated, a small frown set in his face.</p><p>Now Jae is taken aback at the light animosity in Younghyun’s face. “Are you still jealous? At Wonpil? I’ve told you enough times that it wasn’t like that between us.”</p><p>“I know, I know,” Younghyun sighs. The tension leaves his shoulders, and he falls back in his chair. “It’s just— you were longer with Wonpil than with me and— I dunno. I always saw how you looked at him. As if you were in love with him.”</p><p>“Okay, first of all, I was in love with him - but I always loved- love you. That’s a difference. And second of all, he saved me. Us. He saved us both and we owe him so much. So, instead of judging him like that for things that were obviously not how you think they were, we should be thankful for everything he did for us.”</p><p>And because Jae is still dramatic and gets easily butthurt about anyone who badmouths Wonpil, Jae’s probably best friend ever, he tries to leave the table and get away from Younghyun, the one person who is still able to piss Jae off within a second. Years of animosity and hatred don’t vanish just like that.</p><p>But as much as some things remain the same, Younghyun has learnt from them. Such as that he doesn’t let Jae leave but instead grabs his wrist and tugs him back into the chair next to his.</p><p>“I’m sorry. Wonpil is still a sore spot after years. I am indebted to him, sure, but that doesn’t make up for the fact that he was your partner – fuckbuddy, lover or whatever you were – while he knew how much I love you. I know it was his way of getting over Sungjin, I know that you explained it to me often enough, but… those are the things that I feel. I can’t change that no matter how much I want to.”</p><p>Just like Younghyun, Jae, too, has learnt from past mistakes. In the past he denied Younghyun every chance to speak about his feelings and if he did so, Jae hadn’t listened. But for the sake of them and their relationship he pushes his own feelings away for a minute to digest what Younghyun is trying to tell him and tries not to think about the many ways those could turn out to be lies. Jae trusts Younghyun. He has no reason anymore to betray Jae like that.</p><p>Hence why Jae only sighs and leans into his fiancé’s side to let his temple be kissed by him. “I know, Younghyunnie. I just miss him so damn much.”</p><p>“Me too. How about we write him another postcard? You can write him that we’re finally engaged. We can mail it when we’re out of town next week.”</p><p>Jae nods slowly against Younghyun’s shoulder and takes a deep breath. Younghyun’s smell always calms him down, be it from panic, rage, or sadness, and lulls him into that beautiful sense of comfort and safety. Younghyun smells good, like vanilla and something wooden, and Jae always notices happily the lack of cigarette scent hafting on him.</p><p>That small moment of quietness is quickly disturbed by none other than the host of the barbeque, their nosy and direct neighbor, and his current girlfriend, who wrinkles her nose at their PDA.</p><p>“How’s it going, Jaejae and Bribri? Had much fun?”</p><p>Now it’s Jae who wrinkles his nose at the atrocity of their names slaughtered by Bernard. Younghyun doesn’t look much different as he regrets it much now that he had first introduced himself to Bernard as Brian. It took him half a year to stop Jae from using this nickname for him. Bernard proves to be stubborn in that aspect.</p><p>“You are a brave man, Bernard, if you ask us that,” Younghyun whistles while Jae retreats from his favorite spot on Younghyun’s shoulder. “Nice party, though.”</p><p>“Thanks, man! But Jae helped me organizing it, thank him for the food.” Bernard winks at Jae while his girlfriend rolls her eyes.</p><p>Well, she and Jae don’t have the best track record. There is this one incident where Bernard tried to borrow sugar from Jae, only that he then introduced his girlfriend (who hadn’t been his girlfriend yet) as his friend who was interested in more than Jae’s sugar. Jae bluntly outed himself as gay and closed the door in front of their faces.</p><p>(For context: Jae had been living there for three months then, was probably high on anti-depressant, sleeping pills or cocaine, and was still very much mourning about his lover’s presumed death, so maybe he was a bit harsher than polite. She – Jae still can’t remember her name, another reason why she hates his guts – was and is hurt about that treatment, especially since he has not once tried to apologize for that incident.)</p><p>“Don’t worry, that I will!” Younghyun then, because he knows the story between Jae and the girlfriend, presses a fat and loud smack against Jae’s cheek and, for good measure, throws in a sultry look that promises Jae a second round after the barbeque.</p><p>Good thing that Jae is even pettier than Younghyun. To unnerve that woman even more, Jae mirrors Younghyun expression and pulls out his best giggle as if he’s a teenager and not a thirty-years-old man. And because he wants to very much one up that expression, he pushes his strands out of his face with the hand that wears a very nice ring on his wedding finger. A very, very nice ring that is a silver band with a golden gleam and a diamond snugly fit inside.</p><p>It’s no secret that Jae and Younghyun are better well-off than their neighbors, but the dimension of their wealth is something that goes well beyond their imaginations. Years of mob work pay for life, especially if one of them is an accountant and former hustler.</p><p>Jae usually doesn’t flaunt his wealth into other people’s faces, but for her he makes an exception.</p><p>Just as planned, Bernard suddenly gasps and grasps Jae’s hand to inspect the ring. Jae sees how Younghyun flinches in his seat to stop Bernard in a moment of old instincts kicking in, but he refrains himself from punching him in the face the last second.</p><p>“Is it what I think it is? You finally sealed the deal?” Bernard quakes gleefully and shakes Jae’s hand in excitement. “And with a diamond, nonetheless?!”</p><p>Younghyun’s smug gaze doesn’t escape Jae’s attention, but the older beams brightly at Bernard to finally announce the good news. “We haven’t eloped… yet. It’s only an engagement ring.” <em>And yes, that’s a million-dollar ring</em>, he really wants to add.</p><p>“Congratulations!”</p><p>Bernard’s loud cheer mixed with Jae’s happy laughter while being hugged by his neighbor attracts the attention of every other party attendee. Soon, there’s a queue to congratulate Jae and Younghyun for their engagement. Even Mrs. Brown shuffles her way over with her rollator to warmly hug Jae around his middle and squish Younghyun’s cheek after she beckoned him to lean down.</p><p>“May your marriage be blessed with many children,” Mrs. Brown bestows on them with a kind and wise smile. “And no matter what other people say, god is happily watching over you.”</p><p>Jae tries hard not to tear up at her wonderful words and takes them deeply into his heart instead. He pushes the cross that always hangs around his neck deeper into his chest to make the remorse and guilt vanish for a warmer feeling.</p><p>He still believes that he doesn’t deserves god’s love after the things he had done, but that’s a thought for another confession or therapy session.</p><p>“You really have to invite me to your wedding,” Bernard insists while he is seeing his guests off at his front door. He pats Jae against his shoulder and gifts him a warm yet rueful smile. “I’m happy for you. You and Younghyun are good for each other. Ever since he arrived in front of your door, you started to smile more. And now look at you, Jae Park, about to become a famous musician with a trophy wife by your side!”</p><p>“How many times do I have to tell you this? I won’t become a famous musician. And that’s not the definition of a trophy wife.”</p><p>Once outside Jae lets his gaze wander around the neighborhood. He sees the couple from three houses down the street walking home with their daughter, sees Younghyun talking to Bernard with a bright smile on his face, sees Mrs. Brown slowly shuffling over the street with her granddaughter in tow. This is the place where he’s been living in for nearly three years, a small suburban area that is just an hour away from Los Angeles, peaceful, quiet, far away from all evil that rests in Seoul. The first place to call home after years of drowning and surviving.</p><p>Jae is happy. Really, really happy. It isn’t perfect here. He and Younghyun are far off from perfect, but he’s happy. Just like he had promised to the people he left behind.</p><p>“Let’s go home.”</p><p>Except for Younghyun who is still there. And Jae is grateful to have him by his side. So grateful that he pulls Younghyun in by his waist and kisses him deeply and softly right there on Bernard’s lawn.</p><p>Younghyun makes first a surprised noise in his throat but is quick to respond to the kiss. It’s a simple glide of lips against each other, no tongue or teeth involved. It’s full of warmth, love, and adoration, all what Jae feels for the love of his life.</p><p>“Let’s go home.”</p><p>~~~</p><p> </p><p>The night is quiet at home. They can hear the chirping of cicadas and the soft waves breaking against the shore not afar from their house. It’s soft, it mulls them into sleep, calm and steadily. For Jae it’s a restless night again.</p><p>Younghyun sleeps peacefully with his head leaning against his chest, the blanket the only thing that protects their nudity from the fresh air that wafts in through the window. Earlier Younghyun made good on his promise to thank Jae nicely for the meal he provided for the party. However, Jae knows there’s more to it.</p><p>Younghyun has developed some kind of radar over the years to forecast Jae’s sleep schedule, lest he can prevent night terrors or insomnia. On such nights Younghyun does everything in his power to distract Jae from the bad thoughts that tend to invade his mind with movies nights, nonsense talks or long hours of lovemaking. But sometimes nothing helps and Jae has to deal with it on his own while he cuddles Younghyun to sleep. A mixture of good food, warm temperatures and the sound of the ocean do the trick.</p><p>Tonight, his thoughts revolve around the better part of his old life. He wonders what his friends are up to. If Jamie, his old hairstylist, finally upgraded her hair-saloon or what inspector Nam is currently doing. What happened to Ten after Jae cruelly killed his lover and what about Beomgyu and the other young boys from Namjoon’s mob? Is Chan still working hard in Jae’s old position, and who took over the casino, the YoungK, after Younghyun’s staged death? Is Sungjin still leading them with a severe but caring hand? Are Wonpil and Dowoon still an item after they finally found each other?</p><p>There are so many questions circling around in his mind that Jae slowly feels his chest constricting in a sign of an oncoming panic attack. He slowly pushes Younghyun off his chest to stumble out of bed to the window and leaning lightly outside for a fresh breather. Sweat runs down his temple that cools his skin a bit, but the panic doesn’t ebb away because thinking about all good always invites all bad along to it.</p><p>Images of Jae shooting an assassin, Jae killing the woman who shot Younghyun, Jae watching Ten crying over a still warm body, all the blood on his hands and face and clothes and him cowering between garbage containers and desperately trying to wash off Younghyun’s blood from his arms, drowning and sinking deeper.</p><p>Jae gasps in a heavy breath as soon as warm arms circle around his waist and kisses are pressed onto his neck. His hug grounds Jae back to the moment as he can’t see Younghyun dying in his arms if he is perfectly healthy and pressed against his back.</p><p>“It’s alright, hyung,” Younghyun mutters into his skin in Korean again and again. He loosens his tight grip around Jae to give him space to escape, while Jae clings to his arms like on a lifeline.</p><p>“We—we don’t—no eggs,” Jae tries to divert the topic, also in Korean, and puts his attention to the mundane things of their life. A coping mechanism that his therapist recommended him once.</p><p>He feels Younghyun nodding against his shoulder before his soft voice speaks up again, “And we have no bread. I wanted to buy it next thing in the morning.”</p><p>Younghyun inhales and exhales deeply for Jae to follow along. The kisses stop but his lips still rest against Jae’s skin. He must be tired and Jae feels guilty to keep him from sleeping. Younghyun has to be up early next morning for a morning meeting while Jae can sleep in for once.</p><p>The panic isn’t gone, though.</p><p>“I like daisies.” Confusion slowly settles on Jae’s face at Younghyun’s small confession until he adds a whispered, “For our wedding. I like daisies.”</p><p>Warmth slowly spreads in his chest and his breathing adapts to Younghyun’s breathing pattern. His body slowly calms down.</p><p>“Okay,” Jae whispers into the darkness. “Daisies then.”</p><p>They fall into a comfortable silence whose only companion is the ocean. Jae can feel how Younghyun slowly sacks into his body as sleepiness overcomes him again. With a small smile, he turns around in Younghyun’s lax hug and presses a kiss onto his temple as a thank you.</p><p>“Let’s get you back to sleep.” He shuffles around with Younghyun’s half-asleep form and covers him with a blanket once he is in bed. “I’mma head out and buy some eggs and bread. I won’t take long.”</p><p>“Be careful.” Younghyun nods and then nuzzles his cheek deeper into the pillow. His breathing slowly flats out until he’s asleep again, while Jae dons on the next best pants and sweater he can find, then takes his wallet from the drawer and slips into his shoes.</p><p>Before he leaves the house, he goes to the small cupboard in the hallway and opens the first drawer. Even without light he can see the gleam on the shiny black surface of his old precious gun. It got recently cleaned, something Younghyun does out of habit from time to time as it soothes his mind and sense of security. Jae ponders whether he should take it with him or not, but then again, his anxiety wouldn’t let him make a step out of the door without the weapon pressed against his back.</p><p>It’s with a heavy sigh and a heavy heart that Jae leaves the house to buy some bread and eggs. Too bad that he doesn’t come home like that. It would be a lot better than the terror that will then run through his veins.</p><p>~~~</p><p>‘<em>Organized Crime and its Victims: Number of Casualties rising in recent Shooting</em>s’</p><p>Jae skims through the newspaper to find the article that is featured on the front. The shopkeeper is keeping an eye on him from his spot behind the counter ever since Jae set his basket on the floor. The headline had immediately caught his interest once he saw it. Just because he left his own organized crime group doesn’t mean that he is not interested in what is going on in his city since Jae’s living here undercover and all that.</p><p>Apparently, street gangs from L.A. are having a little war on their turf that causes a lot more casualties than otherwise. There are no specific names mentioned or which gang it is, and Jae’s curiosity is piqued. He himself isn’t exactly a fan of the L.A. mob as he is the reason that three of them got killed. Plus, they were the reason that made Jae flee to Seoul and become a mobster.</p><p>Maybe Younghyun knows more about it.</p><p>(Hopefully not because Younghyun had sworn off of this life just like Jae.)</p><p>With the newspaper tucked under his arm, Jae makes his way out of the supermarket after paying for the articles. The air is all fresh and nice outside, a bit warmer than the air-conditioned supermarket, but it’s alright. Jae inhales deeply before he sighs softly and starts his way home. He came here by foot instead of his car to clear his head and bask in the early summer vibes of California.</p><p>Only that he doesn’t get that far.</p><p>He isn’t even off the parking lot when someone suddenly crashes into him and wrestles him into an alleyway right next to the supermarket. Jae constantly tries to push that guy away, an unsuccessful try as the guy has him in a headlock. His throat is squeezed tightly in between that guy’s arms and Jae gasps for much needed air. His fingers scratch against the naked skin of the attacker in a panic until Jae realizes that his panic only makes things worse.</p><p>Because he knows what do in such situations.</p><p>At the right moment, Jae pushes his chin under the guys arm and all his weight down to fall on his knees. He makes the guy fall forward onto him and then throws him over his shoulder. His attacker gasps for air once his back meets the ground and Jae uses his chance to bolt the fuck away. He can’t see anything in the darkness, only hear the steps of his attacker coming quickly closer to him.</p><p>“You're fucking kidding me,” Jae curses under his breath once the guy catches up with him. He is faster than Jae and just when Jae thinks that he can reach the brightly lit street, he gets pushed down to the ground by his attacker’s full weight thrown on him.</p><p>Their squabble is a blur to him. He remembers rolling around, pushing against his face and then panicking when the guy straddles him and suddenly holds a knife up in the air – who the fuck even uses his knife in the last possible moment? – that he then tries to stab Jae with.</p><p>Good thing for Jae that his hands are still available to catch the knife (his wrists, not the knife. That’d be stupid). Their strength is equal, so it’s more a question of endurance at this point.</p><p>His gun is pressing hard into his back where the guy has him straddled. If only he could reach it.</p><p>Turns out that the guy has more endurance than Jae as his knife grazes his shoulder and Jae cries in pain. His scream gets muffled by the guy’s other hand shooting up to his throat and – again, really, is that some kind of fetish? – strangling him.</p><p>It’s the sudden sound of a woman’s heel that saves Jae’s life. Distracted by the possible appearance of a witness, the guy’s hold on Jae lessens and provides Jae with the perfect opportunity to push him and roll away.</p><p>In the wrong direction, though.</p><p>He’s deeper in the alleyway instead and when he runs, it’s away from the street. A momentary lapse of judgement of his part. He has no other choice. That guy is quick, and Jae’s throat hurts as fuck at this point, so he stops running and finally draws his gun to point it at the guy.</p><p>“Stop or I’m going to shoot,” Jae warns him. He has to because his gun isn’t loaded. He never loads his gun, not after he shot people twice with it.</p><p>(Thrice, but the graze shots at Younghyun don’t count.)</p><p>The guy watches him with a certain gleam and hunger in his eyes that makes Jae questioning his intentions. He has thought of it as a simple robbery or rape, but this here shows him that it’s of different nature. Jae panics.</p><p>And that’s the sole reason why he does it.</p><p>That and the guy suddenly shooting forward as if he knew that Jae’s gun isn’t loaded. He doesn’t stop when Jae releases the safety, he doesn’t stop when Jae pulls the trigger, he only stops when he falls to the ground along to the loud sound of metal crashing against each other.</p><p>Jae stays frozen on his spot that is sitting in the middle of fallen over metal trash cans, and his hand still holds the gun that feels a bit warmer than before. His fingers shake as his eyes keep watching the motionless body on the floor. His ears ring with that loud sound from before.</p><p>Not the trash cans falling over because Jae stumbled into them in a scare, but because of the actual shot that came out of his gun.</p><p>“What—”</p><p>Suddenly, reality crashes in like bricks and Jae scrambles over to the probably dead man – no he’s totally dead, he doesn’t have a pulse anymore. His blood pools around the dead figure except for where Jae’s legs are on the ground. It’s a sight that Jae always sees in his nightmares, those that remind him of the bad deeds his hands had done.</p><p>“Fuck,” he curses under his breath when crashed-in reality settles in. “Fucking shit, what the—”</p><p>His hands fist strands of hairs between fingers, except that his right hand still has that cursed gun that he can’t seem to let go of. He watches the blood seeping through clothes, forming a dark pool that is only black with the lack of good lighting, and remembers suddenly a dark sea that he once drowned in.</p><p>And then <em>those </em>pictures come back to his mind where blood defiles god’s sacred place and it somehow—</p><p>His instincts take over.</p><p>He scurries away from the body until his back meets a wall. He finally lets go of the weapon to get his phone for a call.</p><p>~~~</p><p>“I came as quick as I—”</p><p>Younghyun stops short as soon as he lays his eyes on the dead man next to Jae who is still crouching against the wall and pressing his face into his knees. He hears Younghyun kneeling next to him, prying his hands out of his hair and pulling Jae into his embrace.</p><p>It’s warm, comforting and grounding.</p><p>“What happened, Jae?”</p><p>Younghyun’s voice is deep and still laced with sleepiness. Jae wishes he didn’t have to take that away from Younghyun, but he really, really needs him right now.</p><p>“I dunno,” Jae mumbles against Younghyun’s shoulder. He presses his nose deeper into Younghyun’s neck to breathe in his scent. “He attacked me, I warned him and—and—why did you load the gun?”</p><p>He hears the sigh that escapes Younghyun’s lips the same time his shoulder’s fall lightly when it probably clicks for Younghyun.</p><p>“Sorry, I forgot.”</p><p>Jae really wants to be mad at him, like, really mad, but he just—he can’t. Younghyun is fallible. It’s a habit of his and honestly, it’s Jae’s fault for taking that gun with him. Even then, he only protected himself from getting murdered. It all happened in self-defense.</p><p>“No, it’s—it’s alright. I guess.” He leans away from Younghyun and presses a chaste kiss against his temple before he sits back against the wall and looks at the body in front of him. A heavy sigh escapes his lips. That’s all that he can do for now, all he can feel for now. “What do we do with the body?”</p><p>Younghyun gives him that gaze. The one that holds so many words and questions that Jae instantly gets what he tries to suggest. It doesn’t change the fact that his stomach squeezes and that his chest constricts at the sole thought of what Younghyun is capable of.</p><p>“What else can we do?” Younghyun only shrugs once he sees the uncertainty on Jae’s face.</p><p>He’s right, Jae knows that. Doesn’t make it any less hard. Fact is that they can’t call the police and claim it as self-defense. Neither can they let the body lie here for another person to find. Who knows what they might find on the guy that’ll lead them directly to Jae.</p><p>Living under the radar is hard once you get processed by the police and with Jae’s history, he can’t be careful enough.</p><p>With another heavy sigh Jae shuffles over to the body and starts searching through his pockets. Anything that might lead him to who this guy is—wait, no. Wrong protocol. He doesn’t have to plan revenge. It’s just a normal theft attempt.</p><p>Younghyun’s sudden gasp makes Jae’s head whip up to his fiancé who holds the guy’s blood-stained knife in the light to inspect. Before Younghyun can ask any question, Jae shoots a short, “I’m okay.”</p><p>“But there’s blood,” Younghyun hisses back instead of yelling. Jae only shrugs in response.</p><p>“Really, I’m okay. I experienced worse.” Younghyun’s expression only gets more severe than before. “It’s only a scratch, promise.” That and the noise form the street does the trick for Younghyun to let things go.</p><p>They look through the pockets for a few peaceful seconds until Jae finds something in the guy’s back pocket. A picture to be precise. He can’t see the picture well enough in the scarce light, so he only pockets it for now.</p><p>“I got the car directly in front of the alleyway, but just in case—”</p><p>Younghyun then takes off his jacket and puts it on the body to hide the blood. Jae meanwhile walks the alleyway up and down to look for anything that they might have lost during their fight, picks up his newspaper and groceries on his way back to the car where Younghyun is already stuffing the body into the trunk.</p><p>“I’ll drop you off at home first and then take care of the body, alright?”</p><p>Exhaustion hits him the moment his head hits the headrest. The motor howls quietly before Younghyun drives off.</p><p>Somehow, Jae finds it funny that he always drives to someplace else after he shot someone.</p><p>The first time he shot someone he was drinking with Dowoon in his bar peacefully until some men barged in and opened fire. Afterwards he drove to the casino where he knew he’d find Younghyun because he had a fight to pick with him.</p><p>The second time he shot someone he was playing blackjack with his then business friend Jackson until some men barged in (again) and a woman shot Younghyun. Afterwards he got arrested by the police and was driven to the station where he sat in jail for the first time ever.</p><p>Today marks the third time he actually killed someone.</p><p>And just like all those times before, Jae only feels—well, he doesn’t feel much. He’s numb, he’s tired, he’s one hundred percent sure that reality will hit him like a truck once his mind had enough time to process his freshly done deed.</p><p>His head leans against the window while his eyes watch the streetlights passing him. There’s a dead man in their trunk and Jae thinks about the huge order he has to make tomorrow. His hands are stained with blood (literally and metaphorically), and he thinks about how Younghyun intends to dispose the body. He has never really asked before.</p><p>“How do you get rid of bodies?”</p><p>Younghyun sharply pushes the brakes before he runs over a red light, their bodies being pushed to the front and then pulled back into their seats. His knuckles turn white where they clam around the wheel.</p><p>“Do you really want to know that?” Younghyun asks baffled and stares at Jae with wide eyes.</p><p>“Yes?” Younghyun blinks. He sounds really concerned when he asks Jae if he’s really okay. “Is it so strange that I ask that?”</p><p>“Well, yes. I remember that you threw up the last time you saw a body.”</p><p>Jae throws his hands exasperatedly into the air. He hits the car roof instead. “You shot him right in front of me. I had his blood on my lips. And I was pretty much hungover.”</p><p>“Wonpil told me—”</p><p>“God, you guys are worse than the Gilmore Girls. Didn’t you have anything else to talk about?”</p><p>“I was in the hospital for three months. There is only so much that we could talk about without things getting weird.”</p><p>The traffic light goes from red to green and Younghyun softly steps on the gas to get the car going again. The silence between them is suffocating. It makes him squirm in his seat, trying to find a comfortable position where he doesn’t have to look Younghyun in the eye. His reflection is, like, everywhere.</p><p>Despite the awkwardness in the air, Jae turns back to his fiancé with all seriousness back in his face. “Tell me. How do you get rid of bodies?”</p><p>It takes seconds until Younghyun eventually sighs and loosens his hold on the wheel. He glances at Jae from the corner of his eyes and says flatly, “I dismember—”</p><p>“Nope, I changed my mind.”</p><p>The street offers a much better view, especially if Jae can sulk and ignore the smug smile on Younghyun’s face.</p><p>~~~</p><p>Younghyun arrives back home when Jae is setting the table for breakfast. Jae’s heart squeezes in his chest once he sees the dark rings beneath Younghyun’s eyes and the exhaustion radiating off his figure.</p><p>“Coffee?”</p><p>But it somehow feels okay again when Younghyun smiles so warmly at him with eyes gleaming at the prospect of coffee. As if everything is alright because he did it for Jae. How does he deserve such a man?</p><p>“Thank you,” Jae mumbles against Younghyun’s cheek before he presses a soft kiss against it and gives his man his coffee. And along with it the newspaper from last night.</p><p>Jae, perched against the kitchen counter, watches Younghyun’s eyebrows rising up until they vanish under his bangs, and his mouth starts to chew slower and slower. Jae can’t bear the tension anymore.</p><p>“Do you think this has anything to do with what happened last night?”</p><p>It’s that thought that kept Jae awake throughout the night. That man was out there to kill him, no matter if it looked like a robbery or rape attempt. Without his gun he would’ve been lying dead in that street now.</p><p>The way Younghyun’s eyebrow abruptly furrow and his eyebrows look up to him like a lost child, Jae’s heart sinks.</p><p>“I honestly don’t know, hyung,” Younghyun says apologetically, his voice sounding a tad detached. “I severed contact to anyone from the mob after I, well, <em>died</em>.”</p><p>“Oh.”</p><p>A chair scrapes over the floor as Younghyun suddenly stands up and grabs Jae by his hips to pull him in, placing a soft kiss against his lips with a small smile. A small reassurance that the past is the past and that Younghyun doesn’t regret anything. Jae knows, really, but sometimes it’s hard to forget.</p><p>Because his memories are still vivid in his nightmares.</p><p>“I’mma take a quick shower.” Younghyun goes in for another kiss, this one sweeter and longer. Then another one on Jae’s cheeks. “I come home late tonight. I got the morning meeting postponed for a few hours by telling them that I have a family emergency. Buy some Chinese on your way home, alright?”</p><p>“Okay.”</p><p>Back to domestic. Normal. A place where Jae can breathe freely, far out of the deep dark waters. The shallow is a nice place to live in. A safe spectator to the things past and the beautiful sight that is the moon high up in the sky.</p><p>This is how things should be.</p><p>Perfect.</p><p>Normal.</p><p>If only—</p><p>~~~</p><p>
  <em>I’ve seen people like you. Blind to a world that they think to be lost in. However, if you follow the light, will there be no shadow anymore?</em>
</p><p>Jae worries his lower lip between his fingers. Red light illuminates his face in the dark as Jae sits in his car on his way home, the Chinese takeout bag in the seat next to him. The radio bellows some mainstream pop song that everyone is crazy about, but Jae doesn’t really listen to it.</p><p>That whole day long his thoughts are circling around last night. His feet can’t seem to stay still, always jumping nervously as if it needs to be on alert every time. Same goes for his fingers, always tapping out a rhythm against any surface they can reach. Thank goodness that he has his own office where people can’t see him being that nervous.</p><p>Jae did it again. Killed someone. It was to his own defense, he tries to convince his mind that he’s not a murderer. But still, the body got disposed of as if he is one. Nearly three years of a pure life and it took only one second to destroy everything. At least he has his two years of sobriety to celebrate – even though he had never been addicted to drugs in the first place.</p><p>(Oh, the lies he still hides behind.)</p><p>The memory is fresh and vivid in his mind. He relives the moment every quiet second. The worst part? He doesn’t feel the guilt. He just doesn’t. Never had. That’s what is killing him inside. Guilt is lacking in his heart, instead it’s filled by paranoia and fear.</p><p>And a quote that he had long forgotten about but suddenly remembers again.</p><p>He remembers being in a church and receiving a box. He remembers exchanging one life against another. Pride, honor, debt and a sea filled with so much love and darkness. How much Jae wishes he could have talked to that man more than twice as the similarity of their situation had seemed so familiar.</p><p>How much he wishes he could catch a small blink of what happened to his old mob after he’d left.</p><p>For only two years coming home has actually felt like coming home – but today something’s different.</p><p>Jae stands frozen in his front yard. Nothing is amiss. The grass is still green, the door is still closed, no car is parked where it shouldn’t be. Same thing as usual, but if Jae has learnt anything from his time being a mobster then it’s to listen to his own hunches.</p><p>It’s in the detail what will cost your head.</p><p>With his phone in his hand and Younghyun’s number on speed dial, Jae carefully approaches his front door. He slowly turns the knob – it’s locked. Just like Jae has left it. His head turns left and then right, his neighbor’s all there, so someone would hear him in case he screams bloody murder.</p><p>And the Chinese food in his other hand is still hot, that maybe makes a good weapon. Or the gun pressed against his back. Loaded.</p><p>It’s dark inside his house once he opens the door, the only light coming from the street through the windows. Jae carefully lets go of the takeout and pulls his gun out, slowly venturing into the kitchen with the adjacent living room.</p><p>His heart stops beating.</p><p>There is someone sitting in his favorite chair. Jae can see the outline of a figure in the darkness, the moonlight casting a beautiful blue light inside.</p><p>His weapon clicks when he raises it to the figure in his seat. His hands tremble at the terror running through his veins. The sight is so reminiscent of that one memory he tries to forget. It feels too much like a déjà-vu.</p><p>The weird thing though? The figure doesn’t move. Doesn’t make a sound. Only sits there in the darkness. Jae grows even more suspicious once his ears perceive a heavy breathing pattern over the sound of the waves.</p><p>“Who are you and what are you doing in my house?”</p><p>Jae loses the security of his gun. Fear runs through his veins. He doesn’t want to shoot another guy, but he wouldn’t hesitate if the situation calls for it. He would do anything to protect Younghyun and their peaceful life.</p><p>When the figure suddenly moves, Jae flinches and nearly presses the trigger, stopping at the last second when the figure puts their palm up as if to say, ‘I won’t do any harm’. Only once Jae lowers his gun a bit does the figure move again. His hand reaches up to where their lamp is.</p><p>The bright light is blinding him for a hot second. A piercing pain in the eye that protects him from the sight that follows, one that makes Jae gasp and then hastily scramble to the figure in the armchair.</p><p>What else should he do if an old friend is bleeding on his favorite chair and looking as if on the brink of death?</p>
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<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Track 1: Tell the world that I'm still here tonight</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Title from Day6 - Zombie </p><p>Welcome to the second chapter that took me longer to upload than to write! Probably because I'm still crying over <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_NmzMzjoJyk&amp;ab_channel=JYPEntertainment">Where the Sea sleeps</a>. Go stream it, the boys deserve it, it's so good!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The music played a steady beat. Jazzy chords accompanied by the soulful play of a saxophone, setting a certain mood in the dim light.</p><p>The bar was usually a quiet place. Not many people frequented it as it was in the middle of a mob’s territory, even though the mob itself is just a small one that had just ventured into Seoul and taken over parts of the old JYP territory.</p><p>Not that it interested Wonpil that much. He had a job and that’s the sole reason for why he was here. He needed the money, it was a simple job, he would be in and out before anyone started questioning his presence.</p><p>There was a nice spot directly at the bar where he could let his gaze sweep through the room without looking too suspicious, especially not if he ordered a neat whiskey and drunk out of it like someone long used to its taste.</p><p>His target, the man that he was supposed to kill, was sitting on the other side of the room with two other men, drinking and smoking cigar, caressing their bellies in satisfaction. Old geezers were all the same, Wonpil thought while he kept watching the round. Especially this one. He had this flair of an old-fashioned mobster as if he tried to embody every mobster cliché. The only thing missing would be the typical fedora.</p><p>Patience was one of Wonpil’s best strengths. He could sit there all night with his single glass of whiskey, listening to the music that slowly transcended into some cheesy ballad as the hour advanced past midnight, and watch his target until said man would finally leave for a small toilet break. Or maybe go home. Either one was okay, as long as he was alone and Wonpil could stab him in peace.</p><p>Wonpil still didn’t have enough money for a silencer and pistols were too loud for a hitman. That was one of the first things he had learned on the street, on his first job as a hitman, a pistol amateurishly in his hand, a bang that alerted the police, and Wonpil scrambling home just in time. His mother had scolded him for hours with no end in sight and then coughed herself to sleep.</p><p>For an old man he surely had a bladder of steel. He didn’t move from his seat, and midnight had turned into one in the morning fifteen minutes ago. The bartender eyed him more often as Wonpil was still on his first drink (and he couldn’t afford to drink another one – his alcohol tolerance was shit).</p><p>It was then that suddenly a random guy sat down in the seat next to Wonpil even though all other seats were free. The guy smiled at the bartender, ordered whiskey on the rock, then started to smooth out the lapels of his wet trench coat and brush with his fingers through his hair.</p><p>Wonpil couldn’t stop staring at him. First of all, he sat directly in line with the guy he was supposed to watch and second of all, he was pretty. Wonpil had never found anyone pretty before, that’s a first ever since he had decided to be single forever. But gosh, that guy? Wonpil wanted a piece of him.</p><p>“Hey.”</p><p>Wonpil only blinked when the guy suddenly turned around and greeted him with a smile on his face. His cheeks bunched up to round apples and his eyes looked like they contained a universe in them. How could eyes gleam like that in such scarce light? No, really, even from a neutral position, no attraction or whatsoever counted in, that guy’s eyes shone as if they contained so many stars.</p><p>“Hey,” Wonpil eventually said back. His face didn’t change much despite his inner conflict. People always told him he had an A+ poker face, one that was indifferent and gave no thought away. Wonpil always argued back that there wasn’t much happening inside him – emotion wise that was. He didn’t feel much, so why should he express emotions then?</p><p>“First time here?” The pretty guy raised his glass before he took a small sip, his eyes never leaving Wonpil as the smile never vanished from his face. His voice was different, too, had this raspy and calm sound to it.</p><p>Wonpil nodded, suspecting the guy to be a regular patron of the bar. Maybe even part of the mob. “Wanted a change of scenery,” Wonpil offered as an explanation to stop any possible questions.</p><p>“Ah.” The guy took another sip, eventually looking away to read the labels of the many bottles stacked in the back. “But you know what kind of bar this is, right?”</p><p>Was there a need to lie? Wonpil contemplated before he shook his head. “I know. But I thought as long as I don’t cause any trouble, I’m safe.”</p><p>“That’s brave of you. Most people fear the crowd they tend to here.” Pretty guy raised an eyebrow. The smile dimmed to a light smirk of his lips. Wonpil somehow got the impression that the guy thought he had the upper hand here.</p><p>“I’m not afraid.” Wonpil had long stopped being afraid of people. He killed them for money, there weren’t that many of them left that could scare him. It’s either killing or be killed, both options sounded good enough for him.</p><p>Pretty guy hummed. Silence embraced them, music its companion. The bartender was suddenly gone, but who even cared. Wonpil felt like as if he was caught in a bubble, one created by the guy next to him. And then, for the first time, Wonpil wondered: Who exactly was sitting next to him? It wasn’t some normal patron, that was sure.</p><p>But that shouldn’t matter. Wonpil was here on a mission. So, he stood from his seat and made an excuse to go to the toilet when pretty guy suddenly grabbed his arm and pulled him back into his seat. Wonpil stared at him with wide eyes, bewilderment painting his expression. Pretty guy leaned onto his arm on the tabletop, smiling brightly at Wonpil.</p><p>“Please keep me company for a few minutes. That guy won’t leave before three anyway.”</p><p>Now Wonpil was taken aback. He shuffled in his seat to sit comfortably. His hands were carefully perched against his thigh. He blinked and blinked and waited for pretty guy to explain how he knew that Wonpil was watching that old man. It didn’t come, though.</p><p>Hence why Wonpil asked the one question that mattered the most for him now, “Who are you?”</p><p>“Park Sungjin,” pretty guy finally introduced himself and before Wonpil could reciprocate the gesture Sungjin continued, “And you’re Kim Wonpil. I’ve heard of you.”</p><p>“You did?” It was the first time that Wonpil ever heard of having a reputation. He was a hitman and hitmen didn’t have a reputation. They were the darkest creatures lurking in the shadows, the ones who stayed hidden and only latched out once someone gave them permission to. What good was a hitman if people knew his face and would flee once they saw him?</p><p>Sungjin chuckled as if he could hear Wonpil’s thoughts. This was also new for him. No one could ever read him except for his dear mother.</p><p>“Yeah, but don’t worry. Your old mentor told me about you before he died.”</p><p>Ah, that would explain it. Wonpil’s mentor, the man who had taught him everything he needed to know about vetting and killing people, was a wise man who had wished to pass his knowledge onto a trusted student and then quit life in the shadows. And there was this one golden rule of the underworld:</p><p>
  <em>Death is the only way to leave this life.</em>
</p><p>So, one day his master had called him, pushed a knife into his own abdomen right in front of Wonpil’s eyes and dragged it across until he eventually bled out and took his last breath. Wonpil watched the whole procedure and then bowed to his late master before dismembering his body and throwing it into the river like he did with every other body.</p><p>An honorable death, his master had believed in. Wonpil had only nodded but kept the thought to himself that death was death and there was neither pride nor honor found in it.</p><p>After that surely extraordinary experience, the responsibility of clearing his master’s possession had fallen onto Wonpil’s shoulders, one that Wonpil had carried gladly. He had sold everything he could and saved the money for his mother, and what he couldn’t sell he’d thrown away.</p><p>Between all of his master's things, he’d found a picture with two men on it: Park Jinyoung and Kang Youngjae. Wonpil knew Jinyoung, the man who had once stood atop of Seoul’s biggest mob and was better known as JYP, but Kang Youngjae was a mystery to him. Probably another mobster, Wonpil had thought and then forgot all about it.</p><p>If only he hadn’t.</p><p>Especially not when he would shoot the man a few months after meeting Sungjin. But that was a story for another time.</p><p>“You knew my mentor?”</p><p>Sungjin took another sip from his glass. There was a certain glint to his eye that had Wonpil captivated. Stars that shone even brighter, as if the man could envision a future brighter than any of Wonpil’s meagre dreams.</p><p>“He’s a good friend of my mentor,” the man confessed.</p><p>Once again Wonpil was taken aback when Sungjin leaned forward to him, cocking his head so he had to look up to Wonpil through half-lidded eyes. Dark eyes. The look was so sultry and alluring that Wonpil felt his heart beating a tad faster. It had never done so before.</p><p>But Sungjin didn’t give him any time to process the sinful sight, not when his lips tugged up in a smile that spoke of dark secrets, and his tongue darted out to wet them. Sungjin’s voice was deeper and raspier, airy when he spoke again. “You see, just like you surpassed your master, I, too, want to achieve that. And I believe that us meeting here today is fate.”</p><p>Wonpil didn’t know what to say. He didn’t believe in any higher power who ruled the world or predestined people’s life. Though, the way Sungjin was looking at him, Wonpil had half a mind to throw every belief over the board to follow this man to the end of the world.</p><p>And what a scary thought that was. They literally met only half an hour ago and here Wonpil was selling his soul to someone who gave him the expression of an angel. A fallen angel. Because he somehow, suddenly, felt alive.</p><p>“Who is your master?” Wonpil then asked in a whisper. He saw Sungjin’s eyes flittering around as if he was searching for something on Wonpil’s blank face. Surprisingly, he seemed to have found what he was looking for, exceeding every of Wonpil’s expectations again.</p><p>Instead of answering the question, Sungjin only nodded his head toward where Wonpil’s target was sitting and drinking. “That’s one of my boss’s men. Some old geezer who is in the highest ranks.”</p><p>As lovely as this meeting had been so far, Wonpil suddenly heard all of his alarm bells going off in an instant. He had known that his target was part of a mob because the man who’d hired him was swimming in the same waters. He’d had that flair around him that Wonpil admired, a certain gentleness to his eyes that hid the brutal darkness lurking behind. Im Jaebeom was a name that everyone should have heard of before as he was the rising star of the underground. Someone who was believed to be Park Jinyoung’s successor.</p><p>Maybe Wonpil should start believing in fate as this felt as something more than a coincidence.</p><p>Sungjin probably must have been able to read the tension in Wonpil’s body as he suddenly smiled charmingly at the hitman. “Don’t worry. You’re here because I wanted you to.”</p><p>“What?” See, no coincidence. It didn’t mean that Wonpil was any less surprised.</p><p>“The guy who hired you is a friend of mine.” Wonpil should start doing research before he offed people. This certainly would have spared him some surprises. “I’ve asked him to hire you.”</p><p> “And what is it that you want from me?”</p><p>Sungjin leaned even further toward him, putting his palm against Wonpil’s cheek. There was nearly no space at all between them. Wonpil could feel Sungjin’s breath against his lips, fingertips only gracing his skin, lips stretched into an amused grin.</p><p>“Ah, the people have it all wrong about you.” The fingers skidded down to his neck, brushing against his hair on his nape. “Even you are affected by something.”</p><p>Wonpil darted his eyes down to escape the gaze that Sungjin had put him under, trying to hide the dilating of his pupils, the warmth spreading through his cheeks, the breath that felt so much harder to take than before. He was flustered and put on the spot without any chance to defend himself as he couldn’t cause any scene.</p><p>Sungjin had this effect on him that had Wonpil questioning his own emotional state. This wasn’t mere attraction; this was something more. Especially when Sungjin leaned further forward, his lips grazing against his cheeks before he stopped by his ear, whispering a low and dark,</p><p>“I want you to be my partner.”</p><p>Wonpil immediately flinched away from Sungjin, catching the guy’s wrist and pulling it away from his neck. Careful as not to cause a scene, Wonpil ducked his head and hid his frame behind Sungjin’s from his target’s sudden prying eyes.</p><p>“I’m not interested—” Wonpil tried to decline, but Sungjin didn’t give him any chance to.</p><p>“Not that kind of partner.” He took his arm back and leaned back in his seat, all gone that sultry look that was replaced by a certain friendliness that somehow always lingered on his face. “More like partners in crime.”</p><p>Add confusion to embarrassment. “What?”</p><p>“The gist of it? I want you to kill that guy. He’s been getting on my nerves for a while. Plus, then I’m a step nearer to where I want to be.”</p><p>It finally clicked for Wonpil. “You want the mob.”</p><p>“I want the mob,” Sungjin confirmed. He then downed his drink in one swift motion, sighing in delight at the taste before he turned back to Wonpil. “The old guys are all retiring except for Kang, my boss. That fool still believes that his son will return from Canada and take over his business. But believe me when I say he won’t, therefore I am only doing what has to be done. And you’re going to help me with that. Just tell me your price.”</p><p>For Wonpil, this was the chance of a lifetime. Where he was something akin to a Ronin before, he now felt like he had someone to hold onto. Sungjin seemed to be an okay kind of guy if he chose to ignore the whole plot behind Wonpil’s hiring and the betrayal that was to follow. Wonpil was ready to make this deal.</p><p>Even more so when Wonpil told him his price – an outrageous high sum – and Sungjin doubled it without a care in the world. That was all that counted, right? Wonpil was only loyal to one thing and that was the money with that he could keep his mother alive.</p><p>Just then Wonpil saw how his target was leaving the place, so he jumped on his own two feet with a small smile on his face.</p><p>“It was nice to meet you, Park Sungjin-ssi. When will I hear from you again?”</p><p>Sungjin only winked at him. “Don’t worry. I’ll find you.”</p><p>It was exciting. Wonpil should be scared that there was someone who was able to trace him, hunt him down and find him like that. Instead, he killed the man with a smile on his face, not because the blood on the floor suddenly had a meaning but that the felt alive for the first time ever.</p><p>~~~</p><p>Jae stares at the blood on the floor, on the clothes, on his most favorite chair in the house. But what worries him the most is the guy whose wound he is currently stitching together while trying to keep his cool. It’s not an everyday occurrence that he has to stitch up some really bad looking bullet wounds.</p><p>“Put more pressure on it, hyung,” the bleeding man advices Jae, whereas Jae looks sharply at him and bites his tongue to not let anything pass by.</p><p>“Sorry that I’m not a doctor,” Jae huffs under his breath instead and pushes the needle through the skin. The sight is disturbing him, making him nauseous, but what other choice does he have? “Why of all days does Younghyun have to work late today?” Jae curses under his breath when he accidentally punctures his finger with the needle.</p><p>“You’re doing good.”</p><p>Jae really appreciates that Wonpil tries to encourage and praise Jae for that shit work he’s doing, but really, his mood is ruined for the night. There are too many thoughts running through his mind, so many questions he wants to ask but doesn’t know where to start.</p><p>Though first, he needs to concentrate. Wounds aren’t closing by themselves, right?</p><p>Wonpil, not bleeding anymore after minutes of concentrated working, winces in pain when he puts his ruined shirt over his body again. Jae luckily remembers Younghyun’s sweater that usually lies somewhere around the couch and pulls that over Wonpil’s shoulder. At least then he doesn’t have to keep staring at the blood blotches.</p><p>The clock ticks on the wall, reminding Jae of the advanced hour again. It’s two hours before midnight and Younghyun should come home soon. Please don’t let today be one of those long days he sometimes does.</p><p>“Thank you,” Wonpil eventually says. He sounds very exhausted and does look like that, too, a sight that breaks Jae’s heart. He hasn’t ever seen his friend in such a condition before.</p><p>(Even then, his friend has never nearly bled to death before. On his favorite chair. In the middle of his living room. In the middle of the Californian West Coast. What the hell?)</p><p>Jae exhales deeply and hands Wonpil a glass of water that he chugs down all at once and then holds out for Jae to refill. And while he does so, Jae finally prompts for answers.</p><p>“Not that I’m not happy seeing you here but… what are you doing here, Wonpil?”</p><p>Wonpil carefully sets the glass down on the small table next to the chair, then pulls the sweater tighter around his frame. His gaze wanders around the room, stopping at the many pictures hanging on the wall. Jae follows his gaze and starts looking at the pictures himself, trying not to feel too nostalgic at the sight of him and Younghyun at the beach, in a café, standing on the edge of the Grand Canyon – just many memories made throughout the last two years.</p><p>“You look happy.”</p><p>Well, what exactly should Jae answer to that? Yes, he is happy ever since he left Seoul? No, he isn’t really happy because he still has to fight with his PTSD every night? Which answer would hurt him less? And how can Jae tell him that Wonpil’s presence is very welcomed but at the same time not?</p><p>First the guy that Jae killed the night before and now Wonpil in his house. That’s surely some material for his therapist.</p><p>Jae rubs his eyes and pushes his bangs out of his face to buy some time to think. Still, it only needs one gaze at Wonpil to know that the hitman isn’t really anticipating any answer soon. He looks lost and far away with eyes glazed over and bangs hanging in waves into his eyes. Like a broken man, a sight that Jae knows too well.</p><p>With a heavy sigh Jae stands up from his seat and walks over to Wonpil. The younger whips his head to him once Jae nudges his foot and motions his head to the couch. He helps Wonpil with going over there, careful of the wound on his abdomen, and then pulls the younger in for a side-hug so that his head leans against Jae’s chest.</p><p>“What happened?” Jae asks in a whisper and then presses a chaste kiss into Wonpil’s hair, smelling the scent of sweat and rain and the city. He feels Wonpil’s fingers grabbing his shirt and crumpling it in a strong hold. Jae’s own eyes glaze over at the sight of Wonpil pushing his face deeper into Jae’s chest and holding onto him like on a lifeline.</p><p>“When’s Younghyun-hyung coming home?” He sounds so broken despite his voice not wavering, but Jae knows him. Even after years of not hearing his voice, Jae still knows it. And he has never seen him like this before except for the day he told Jae all about his mother and Sungjin.</p><p>Hence why Jae tries it again. “What happened, Pil-ah?”</p><p>But the only answer he gets is a heart-wrenching sob that slowly turns into a silent crying. And Jae lets him cry for as long as he needs to.</p><p>~~~</p><p>There is something calming to see the water flow like that. To hear it meeting the metallic surface. Only moonlight fills the kitchen wherein Jae is currently standing in front of the sink, water running freely, a shirt held beneath its flow. He rubs the cloth against itself and tries to get the deep red stain out of it, ignoring the fact that this is blood and not some red wine stain. Red wine is easier to wash out than dried blood. Maybe. He doesn’t know.</p><p>When the door suddenly clicks open, Jae flinches. Once he hears it closing again followed by a loud thud, he breathes out loudly. Only one person would be that loud when coming home. A thief would be sneakier.</p><p>Jae closes the faucet and walks over to the hallway to greet his fiancé. Only that once he takes one step, everything is kind of—tilted. He feels like living in a strange world where everything is just not right. As if anything that had happened made it strange. Like a different dimension.</p><p>Usually, he would walk into the hallway and greet Younghyun with a bright smile, the takeout ready on the table and the TV already on. Usually, Younghyun would greet him with a kiss and a smile, sometimes even gift him a cake that he got from the bakery next to his workplace.</p><p>Today, though, today is different. Jae steps into the hallway and stays put in the doorway, a dripping shirt still in his hand, and the takeout where he left it in the hallway. A white bag that Younghyun is eyeing confused right now. He opens his mouth to say something, but as soon as he spots Jae, his mouth clicks shut, and he looks at him with wide eyes.</p><p>Oh.</p><p>Probably because the shirt Jae himself is wearing is stained with so much blood from Wonpil crying against his chest.</p><p>Younghyun’s eyes dart back and forth between Jae and the room behind him as if there is someone hiding. Jae can see the tension in his shoulders, the twitch in his fingers. When he reaches over to the sideboard where they keep their guns, Jae only shakes his head.</p><p>“What is going on?” Younghyun whispers nearly inaudible. His eyes are glued to Jae’s still form and hollow expression.</p><p>Jae only turns around as his answer and ventures further into the living room. He stops once he notices that Younghyun is still lingering in the hallway and nods his head toward the living room. The shirt in his hand is dripping onto the floor, leaving a trail of watery blood for Younghyun to follow.</p><p>“What—”</p><p>Younghyun sounds breathless when they finally stop in front of their couch where Wonpil is peacefully asleep, a blanket carefully pulled over him. There are dark rings under his swollen eyes and his skin looks so ashen. Strands of hair stick to each other and fall into his face.</p><p>“What is Wonpil doing here?” Younghyun hisses to Jae, who, in response, only shrugs his shoulders and then walks back into the kitchen. Younghyun follows him instantly, reaching out for his arm to stop him, but Jae is already back at the sink again, opening the faucet and trying to get rid of the blood once again.</p><p>This is how they remain for dreadful minutes, Jae washing the shirt unsuccessfully and Younghyun watching him doing so, until Younghyun grabs his arm and his attention. Jae flinches with the touch and pulls instantly away, glaring at Younghyun.</p><p>“I have no idea what he’s doing here,” is the first thing that comes out of Jae’s mouth since Younghyun’s arrival. He throws the shirt into the sink in defeat, leaning against the counter and letting his head fall against his chest. “He was already here when I came home. And next thing I know he’s asking for you and crying himself to sleep.”</p><p>“Why did he cry?”</p><p>“I don’t know!” Jae whisper-screams while he throws his hands into the air. “It’s not as if I could have asked him. He was like full-on sobbing and breaking down.”</p><p>Younghyun shakes his head, taking a step closer to Jae. “But that’s not Wonpil. He just— he doesn’t—”</p><p>“What? Cry?” Jae laughs bitterly with the memories resurfacing in his mind, Wonpil crying in his arms over a broken heart while one confession after other stumbles out of his mouth. Just because Younghyun hasn’t seen him like that before doesn’t mean Wonpil isn’t capable of— “Feeling things? He’s a human, not some robot.”</p><p>“I know.” It’s only when Younghyun pulls Jae into his arms that Jae notices how agitated he actually is. His body is shaking and his mind in scrambles. Younghyun’s embrace keeps him grounded a bit, an anchor that he can grab onto when the world around him wants to drown him. “But you have to agree with me that something really bad must have happened if he is like that.”</p><p>Oh, how much Jae wishes he were smaller than Younghyun, then he could nuzzle his cheek into his chest and hear his heart beating directly next to his ear. Although, it’s also okay how Younghyun caresses his cheek with his nose and lips in a gesture of comfort instead.</p><p>Jae angles his head just right to slide his lips right over Younghyun’s, first only for a small peck. But the taste, that’s what always allured Jae. His lips start moving, slowly, before he carefully bites down on the lower lip and tugs on it. A small whine leaves Younghyun’s mouth, the perfect chance for Jae’s tongue to slip between open lips and to start exploring the taste of Younghyun’s mouth.</p><p>He tastes sweet like the cake he frequently eats at work, bitter like the bad coffee they brew there. Then there’s the taste of just Younghyun, something that Jae can’t define at all. The best of it, there is no trace of cigarettes in there, hasn’t been for months.</p><p>At the same time Jae’s hands start to wander. First, they glide along Younghyun’s arm up to his neck where he pulls Younghyun in even deeper. Then they continue their travel down again, this time along his back down to the hem of his slacks. His fingers pull on the shirt’s fabric and tug it out of the pants so that Jae has access to the skin beneath.</p><p>Younghyun feels warm against his fingertips. Goosebumps erupt where his fingers trail along the skin. Younghyun gasps into his mouth when Jae’s fingers start to scratch instead of caress. He pushes his knee between Younghyun’s leg, feeling the hardening of Younghyun’s cock against his thigh. Jae has half a mind to push him against the counter make him lean back on his hands. His fingers are now at the front of Younghyun’s shirt and make to unbutton it, one button after another.</p><p>He’s on the third button when a sudden cough disrupts their search for comfort.</p><p>Jae jumps away from Younghyun and pointedly looks to the ground to hide the blush on his cheeks, while Younghyun straightens in his position and furrows his brows at Wonpil’s attempt of sitting up on the couch.</p><p>Wonpil grunts and huffs too much for someone who should be okay, and Jae rushes to him instantly to help him sitting up.</p><p>“Careful, or you’ll open your wounds again.”</p><p>Is there anything else that is more heart wrenching than watching his friend sitting up with so much trouble? The answer is yes, but Jae doesn’t want to think about that too much. He glances to Younghyun who takes a seat across on the couch table with a grim face, while Jae tugs Wonpil against his side so that Wonpil doesn’t have to sit on his own.</p><p>“You look like shit,” Younghyun opens the conversation. Jae wants to slap him against the head or something like that.</p><p>But Wonpil, sweet as he has always been, only chuckles and then winces in pain. “I feel like it, too.”</p><p>Younghyun’s eyes rush over Wonpil’s form, halting when they spot the blood on his sweater. Maybe a wound opened when Wonpil moved. Younghyun seems to think the same as he leans forward and starts to unzip the sweater and Wonpil just lets him. It takes a small peek to see that nothing is bleeding right now, and both Jae and Younghyun exhale in relief.</p><p>“What happened?” Younghyun asks carefully after he zips Wonpil up again.</p><p>Jae can feel how Wonpil tenses in his arms when Wonpil’s eyes catch the sight of outside. A bright crescent on the black canvas that draws the sky, Wonpil’s eyes seem to latch on the mystical figure of the moon. The sound of waves fills the silence that follows the stare, one that is suddenly lost in the past. Even a light touch against Wonpil’s arm doesn’t startle him, yet it grounds him, nonetheless.</p><p>His eyes tear apart from the moon directly into Younghyun’s face until they eventually wander down to the floor. A deep inhale before Wonpil finally starts the tale.</p><p>“Even before Younghyun-hyung left Seoul, things had been tense. Silent. I mean, we all were licking our wounds. We all could breathe easier once G-Dragon dropped off the radar. And even better, Seunghyun apparently left with him and some lackey took over the label. It was as if Big Bang left the scene altogether.”</p><p>“I remember,” Younghyun whispers while Wonpil takes a small break to breathe. “When I woke up, Sungjin told me skip town as long as Jiyong is gone.” His fingers kneaded themselves, a gesture that Jae knows by heart. Guilt and nervousness are filling Younghyun’s veins together with an emotion that make his eyes glaze over. The furrow in his brows tells Jae that Younghyun’s thoughts are a mess, and he suddenly feels like as if he himself can’t breathe anymore.</p><p>Jae swallows thickly and diverts his eyes from every person in this room. There is so much going through his head, things he has to consider. One of them is, should he stay in this room? That day when Younghyun had suddenly stood in front of his door like some miracle, Jae told him that he never wants to hear something about the mob ever again. Either be it about Six, Bangtan or Big Bang, Jae had sworn off those things.</p><p>Yet here he sits, listening to the troubling problems of Wonpil that have apparently begun after Jae had left. Is that something he wants to feel guilty about? Because Jae has to face the truth: Once he knows every little consequence of his plan that had bought him a ticket out of that cruel life, then he would suffocate in his guilt. Drown in it just as much as he had once drowned in his own shadow.</p><p>But Wonpil is his friend. Someone who had caught his every fall and repaired his heart every time after it was broken by Younghyun. He was the anchor that kept Jae from sinking too deep, like a sun that he could look up to in his darkest night. A lover, certainly, one that Jae owes so much to.</p><p>Jae had once left his friend on his own and missed him ever since. He can’t do it a second time. Not when Wonpil looks so broken and on the edge of falling apart.</p><p>“But I remember how Bangtan gave Sungjin a hard time,” Younghyun continues, oblivious to Jae’s inner conflict. He himself looks troubled enough, lost in his own memories.</p><p>Two souls left in what has once been, and one that desperately tries to flee from it.</p><p>“It only took him two months to be a free man again,” Wonpil takes over from Younghyun. His head leans heavy against Jae’s chest, his eyes drooping in exhaustion. “Kim Namjoon was furious. Even more so because he wasn’t able to find you, hyung. To say he was mad would be an understatement. There are rumors that Namjoon exiled his own men because he couldn’t trust them anymore.”</p><p>Jae inhales sharply when a certain face comes to his mind, yet another life he had possibly destroyed. The man who had escorted him on his way out and kindly so. Another man who had been blind to his own shadow and then told Jae as much. Instead of killing Jae, he had silently accepted Jae’s offer of an own life and then let him go with assurance that he would never be a free man again.</p><p>“Is this Namjoon’s doing?” Younghyun motions to Wonpil’s disheveled figure. There is a certain hesitant in his gesture, as if he isn’t sure if he wants to hear the truth.</p><p>Wonpil swallows and pushes his head deeper into Jae’s chest, something that Jae can easily read as a need for comfort. He carefully tugs Wonpil deeper into his side and lays his head atop of his, smelling the rain and blood on his form.</p><p>“It all began when they… when they…”</p><p>And suddenly Wonpil chokes and gasps for air. He clutches tighter around Jae’s middle as if to hide his face. Jae himself winds his arms around Wonpil’s form and pulls him tighter to him, pressing kisses softly against his crown. He whispers small nothings to comfort Wonpil, to make him tell what happened.</p><p>Jae chances a small glance up to Younghyun. What he catches is a sight that makes his heart stop beating for a moment. It’s a face that is so dark, tears that threaten to fall from eyes, a furrow that speaks of betrayal and fear, an expression so broken and dark that Jae has to remind himself that it is still Younghyun sitting in front of him.</p><p>Wonpil slowly resurfaces from Jae’s shirt with a sniff, eyes red rimmed but not wet, his voice shaky when he starts his tale again.</p><p>“They set fire to Woonie’s club. And many of our girls and boys couldn’t leave because Namjoon send in some suicide squad who made sure that they burn down with them.” Jae looks at Wonpil with horror. He is at a loss what to say about it. Wonpil, content with not receiving an answer, adds in a broken whisper, “That was the last day I saw Dowoonie.”</p><p>No wonder that Wonpil looks so broken and at loss. Jae knows the pain of not knowing if you will ever see the man you love again. Even more so the pain to know that you will most likely never see him again. A certain void that can never be filled.</p><p>At least with the knowledge that you can bury your friend and grieve for him because you know that there is no chance left on earth, moving on is an easier task than always wondering about the ifs and maybes. Is he dead or not? Will I see him again? Is it okay to move on or will he hate me if he sees that I did so?</p><p>As much as Jae can empathize with Wonpil’s loss, it still comes as a shock to hear that his younger brother – because that is what Dowoon is for Jae – was possibly burnt down to ashes, a body that was never found, nothing to bury.</p><p>“What?” Younghyun’s voice shares the same sentiment – disbelief, loss, shock. Younghyun moves down to the floor directly in front of Wonpil and takes his hand into his, looking up to Wonpil like a disciple waiting for his prophet’s words. “Are you sure that…?”</p><p>“I don’t know,” Wonpil shakes his head and leans further toward Younghyun and away from Jae. “They weren’t able to find his body, and maybe Namjoon took him as his prisoner. I don’t know, fuck, I don’t know what happened to Dowoonie.”</p><p>“What happened then, Pil-ah?” Jae tugs Wonpil a bit back in fear of his wounds, still wary of Younghyun’s gaze. “What happened that made you come here to us?”</p><p>“Sungjin…” Another deep breath. As if Sungjin’s name pains Wonpil much. Jae’s heart falls. “Namjoon made sure to destroy us bit by bit. He stole our people, killed those whom he couldn’t buy, threatened us all to the point that the only thing left was to hide and disappear. Plus, he was so fixated on Sungjin’s head because Sungjin didn’t tell him where you are right now. Namjoon did everything in his power to discredit Sungjin as our boss. He told all of our people that Sungjin’s a liar and a scammer. He exposed how Sungjin let you guys manipulate him, risking the lives of our guys and—and—”</p><p>“They had always been wary of Sungjin as the boss and this was their chance to finally get rid of him,” Younghyun realizes slowly. “Is that why you are here?"</p><p>Wonpil slowly nods. “Sungjin figured that the only way to get them back on his side is… you.”</p><p>Wonpil throws him a short gaze when he feels Jae’s fingers clamping around his arm quite harshly. Jae tries to stay calm, to not let anything pass by his face. The thought that they came here because of Younghyun, because that old life needs him again, makes Jae mad the same time it saddens him.</p><p>They had two years in peace, two years to heal. All Jae had wanted was peace, still wants to live in peace, but now he is confronted with an awful truth: Younghyun will always be connected to the mob. Even in death.</p><p>Jae hates it.</p><p>So much.</p><p>And he thinks, since Younghyun is ridden by so much guilt and still feels devoted to the life he has been born into, Younghyun will help in every way he can. He will run back into this life open arms.</p><p>Yet, Younghyun surprises him. There is no determination set on his face, no smile or comfort, only confusion and anger.</p><p>“But I’m dead to them,” Younghyun spits in confusion and anger. “What were you thinking? That I just go back to them and tell them ‘Hey, I’m not dead’ and then they follow my lead? I already killed half of them so that they follow Sungjin, what else is there left to do?”</p><p>“I don’t know what Sungjin thought,” Wonpil retorts back as agitated as Younghyun. His voice, though, has a certain desperation that Jae picks up on. “He only said that our mob, our family is built on your blood. You are the only Kang alive; you are the rightful successor of your father.”</p><p>“I don’t care,” Younghyun hisses. “I chose to die because I don’t want this life. I am happy here. And I don’t need you to jeopardize our safety—”</p><p>“Younghyun.”</p><p>Younghyun immediately stops his tirade when Jae calls him. Unlike Younghyun Jae is able to pick up on Wonpil’s distress, on the broken expression and the nearly inaudible whimper. Younghyun does so, too, once he takes a closer look to Wonpil.</p><p>“It’s not why <em>I </em>came here,” Wonpil quietly confesses. He pushes his hands into his face and then mumbles into his palms, “You are my only hope, hyung. I can’t do it alone.”</p><p>Jae leans forward and tugs Wonpil’s hands away. He gives him a small smile, asks in a soft voice, “What do you need our help for?”</p><p>It doesn’t matter what Younghyun thinks in this moment. Jae just doesn’t want to hear the pain in Wonpil’s voice anymore. He owes him that much.</p><p>“Sungjin saved my life. He saved it first when he invited me to his family. He saved it again when we were running away from Namjoon. Because that was what we were doing. We’re the only ones left of our mob. I don’t know where Chan is or Felix or Jisung, and Dowoonie is… I thought, I honestly thought that once—even if you wouldn’t help us, maybe we had a chance to live here. Like you. But I am still hoping to get Dowoonie back. I only want to see him again. Hyung, I want to see him again so much. He can’t be dead—”</p><p>Jae nearly chokes on his own tears as Wonpil breaks down, sobbing into his chest again. His heart breaks further and further the more Wonpil spills every of his thought of what happened until he arrived here, a never-ending stream of words that don’t fail to remind Jae of all the reasons why it was right to leave and why it was wrong to do so all the same.</p><p>“I just want to see him again, I promised Dowoonie that I will always protect him! But instead—I—I—and then… I bought the tickets on a whim. Because we couldn’t stay in Korea anymore. It was a witch hunt after Sungjin’s head at that point. Jaebeom-hyung helped us all to vanish, but somehow, they found us here in America. And Sungjin… I think he’s dead.”</p><p>“What did you say?” Jae thinks he might have misheard. “Sungjin is… dead?”</p><p>Wonpil nods slowly. “Last time I saw him… he was shot in the stomach. It was bleeding too much and Sungjin knew that he couldn’t run anymore. And then he told me to… he told me to…”</p><p>There are no tears anymore. Only the broken gaze of someone who did his best to survive despite the price he has to pay.</p><p>And no one knows what to say anymore.</p><p>~~~</p><p>The silence is suffocating him. The first sunrays only start to filter into the dark room. Jae, however, can still perfectly see the ceiling from his spot on the bed. He knows that Younghyun isn’t asleep next to him, even with his back turned to Jae.</p><p>That is what makes the silence so suffocating. Their hearts beat in perfect synchronization, yet the words on their minds are raging like a storm. Fear closes their throats, squeezes their chests. One word feels like a sharp blade of a knife, one that is able to cut through the fragile bond between them.</p><p>But Jae can’t hold his tongue anymore. Not when the lack of words had nearly cost them their lives once before.</p><p>“I love you, Younghyunnie.”</p><p>He hears the sharp breath that Younghyun takes, but he doesn’t make a move to turn around. Jae feels how anxiety claws his way out of his chest. Jae tugs his blanket tighter around him, fisting the sheets between his fingers. He slowly turns around to Younghyun’s back, resisting the urge to reach out and touch his fiancé.</p><p>“No matter how you decide, I would follow—”</p><p>That elicits a reaction out of Younghyun. The younger suddenly whips around and glares at Jae. His gaze softens as soon as he sees Jae shrinking into himself.</p><p>“Sorry,” Younghyun mumbles into his blanket, pressing his hands to his chest. Jae’s lips tremble as his eyes search for something on Younghyun’s face that isn’t sorrow or guilt.</p><p>“It’s just,” Younghyun breathes, carding through his hair in some sort of desperation. “Last time you said that to me didn’t end very well.”</p><p>“We were teenagers back then,” Jae whispers sharply back. “Today we are so much more than that. We just heard that someone is literally exterminating our whole family.”</p><p>“But they aren’t our family. Not anymore.”</p><p>Jae flinches at Younghyun’s sharp whisper, eyes wide at the meaning of his words. “Of course, they are. They are our brothers, they protected us and—”</p><p>“Why are you defending them?” Jae stills. “You were the one who betrayed them first. You threatened Chan and didn’t care at all what would’ve happened to them if your original plan had worked. Now you’re calling them your family because Wonpil—”</p><p>“Is this about Wonpil again? Because if it was Dowoon or Sungjin or Chan in front of our door, crying and pleading for our help, I would think the same, you know?”</p><p>“Would you?” Younghyun challenges him.</p><p>“Yes,” Jae shoots back without a thought. “And I am honestly shocked that you don’t seem to think the same.”</p><p>Just when Jae is about to turn away from Younghyun, his fiancé’s hands grab his form softly and pull him in. Jae can feel Younghyun’s steady heartbeat against his cheek, feel the warmth his partner emanates.</p><p>“I do think of them as my family, too.” Jae reaches his own arms around Younghyun, holding him tight to his form. “But… you and I, we are on our way to make our own family. And I don’t want to lose this. I am so afraid that everything will fall apart if we get back into that life again. We left because it was killing us, and losing you is the worst thing that could ever happen to me.”</p><p>Jae closes his eyes. He takes deep breath to get Younghyun’s smell into his nose, let it fill him with warmth. “You won’t ever lose me. Not for a million dollar would I want to miss the daisies.”</p><p>“You would look pretty in blue.”</p><p>It’s a smile that grows on Jae’s face when he turns his head up to Younghyun’s face, skimming along his skin with his lips. Lips find each other, first a small and hesitant kiss before they dare more, moving against each other, a movement nearly impossible with the smiles growing on their lips.</p><p>“I want a white wedding,” Jae wishes between kisses while his fingers push Younghyun’s boxers down.</p><p>The way Younghyun looks at him after he positions himself over Jae, a moment frozen in time, eyes so bright in the light of sunrise, a smile that rivals every star on the night sky; Jae has never been that sure that he wants to spend the rest of his life with this man than in this moment.</p><p>“It would fit perfectly to the daisies,” Younghyun breathes against his lips. It was a long and calm kiss, one that conveys every feeling of the other without speaking any word at all.</p><p>And during that night Jae comes to the realization that he agrees: Losing Younghyun would be the worst that could happen to him.</p><p>~~~</p><p>There is something calming about this place that Wonpil immediately gets why Younghyun bought this house years ago. The sunrise is such a beautiful spectacle to watch in the morning. There is something quite poetic about the way the burning star climbs its way up on the horizon and while doing so dunks everything in such beautiful hues of violet and pink. That all accompanied by the soft movement of the waves, crashing against the shore with soft tunes.</p><p>Wind whips his hair back and forth, but it’s the smell of the air that eventually does it for Wonpil. It feels like freedom, a sentiment that he had felt only once in his life. He remembers the scene vividly, that same taste of salt that lingers in the air, warmth that brightens your face, freedom that shakes you down to your bones.</p><p>When Wonpil closes his eyes, he can picture it perfectly.</p><p>He was young, a bit naïve even. But it hadn’t mattered, not on that day. One minute he stood in front of a grave while rain pelted against his form until he was suddenly shielded from it and a small but warm smile greeted him. The next minute he buried his toes in the warm sand beneath his feet while his eyes took in the wide sea in front of him.</p><p>“When I was a child,” a whisper next to him as if a ghost is talking to him but is only the man of his memories piping up with a calming sense of nostalgia, “I visited this beach nearly every day. I loved watching it instead of missing my parents. It’s my safe place.”</p><p>And Wonpil was staring up to the man with awe in his eyes, the same feeling that he already had when they first met, feeling touched by the comforting gesture. Then he remembered the deal he had with that man, that he would help him to get to the top, only that this wasn’t a deal anymore but a promise.</p><p>Because he made Wonpil feel things he hadn’t ever felt before. Maybe it was because Wonpil had just lost the last person he still loved dearly, maybe it was because Wonpil had already started to fall for that man long before; Wonpil only turned around to the man and smiled at him while the tears flowed freely as he was overwhelmed with every emotion that raged in his mind.</p><p>There is a reason why Wonpil will always remember that day. Not only because it is the same day when he buried his mother, but also because that is the one and only day that Sungjin pulled him into his chest and let him cry without any word or judgement.</p><p>On that day Wonpil had sworn to himself that he would always stay loyal to that man. He was the only man who had ever shared something beautiful with Wonpil and with whom Wonpil had shared something deeply vulnerable.</p><p>Until the day he met Park Jaehyung, that guy who always smells like the sea and offered Wonpil his soul and a shoulder to lean on.</p>
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<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Track 2: This room is so quiet, there's nothing left to say</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Chapter title from Day6 - Tick Tock</p><p>Yo, I guess I'm not dead? Sorry, I just had so many things on my plate and still have, so please be patient with the updates. Plus, I am currently struggling with writing. I start so many different stories but I can never get myself to finish them because I just can't-- so yeah... I hope you guys are healthy and are in a better place than me 🙏</p><p>On a different note: There were already a few TXT members in the last installment, and as much as I love them all equally, there is one of them who has a special place in my heart. And he finally makes an appearance!</p><p>Song recommendation: <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4IPSomF5ZmE&amp;ab_channel=LeeChanSol-Topic">Still Fighting it</a> by Lee Chan Sol</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It’s peaceful. Calm, serene, quiet. It feels like a place out of a dream, yet it is as real as it gets. Every morning for two years Jae has been waking up like this:</p><p>Their small neighborhood still asleep except for the elderly couple who likes to stroll around in the morning. A dog that barks then and now, but still far away enough that the bark doesn’t disturb anyone. The gentle sound of the ocean fills in the rest of the silence, that makes it an experience out of a midsummer night’s dream.</p><p>The sun doesn’t shine directly through his window, thank god, but it’s still perfectly bright in here so that Jae can watch Younghyun sleeping peacefully.</p><p>Sometimes Younghyun lies on his side and Jae likes to snuggle up to Younghyun’s back and push his nose into his partner’s neck to catch a few more minutes of sleep. Sometimes Younghyun sleeps on his back and Jae lies atop of him, with two arms securing his place on the warm body. And sometimes, just like today, it is Younghyun who snuggles up to Jae, his head a warm weight on his chest and his arms pulling Jae into Younghyun’s body.</p><p>He really, really likes to wake up like this. Even though he hasn’t slept a wink that night, Jae is perfectly content in watching Younghyun sleep and playing with his hair in the meantime. Younghyun always makes those cute faces when he’s asleep. From time to time he crunches his nose in an adorable way, furrows his eyebrows, or smiles cutely.</p><p>As much as Jae doesn’t want to leave his little bubble, he still has to get up and start the day. Especially as his old friend is sleeping in the guest room.</p><p>After a cool shower and taking his pills like every morning, Jae makes his way down to the kitchen, smelling the freshness of his recently washed sweater. It still smells like Younghyun, just like Jae prefers it.</p><p>What surprises him, though, is to find the table already set and plates filled with fried eggs, bacon, and toast. Jae is very sure that it isn’t Younghyun who did that, so he walks further into the room to search for the only other guy in the house who could’ve done it.</p><p>In the end, he finds Wonpil sitting on their veranda outside, a thick blanket thrown over his shoulder. Jae reconsiders joining him immediately and walks back to the kitchen, grabs two cups that he fills with the already brewed coffee before he finally sits down next to Wonpil. He wordlessly slides over the mug for Wonpil, but the other doesn’t show any reaction.</p><p>The silence that blankets them then is less peacefully than the one that Jae usually prefers in the morning. Even then, it’s also unusual for Wonpil to be here.</p><p>Wonpil looks a bit better than last night, albeit the dark shadows under his eyes remain. There is a certain slouch in his posture, not unlike that of someone who has long given up.</p><p>What would Wonpil do if their roles were reversed?</p><p>Jae slurps a small sip of his coffee, tries not to make a face at its bitterness.</p><p>And maybe he knows what Wonpil would do.</p><p>“The view is beautiful, isn’t it?”</p><p>Finally, Wonpil tears his eyes from the sky and turns his head towards Jae. He carefully accepts the cup before he takes a sip himself. “It is.” Wonpil’s voice sounds rusty and sleepy, hoarse from so much crying last night. “Younghyun-hyung certainly has an eye for pretty properties.”</p><p>Jae nods slowly. He guesses, after Wonpil told him yesterday what had happened on their side of the world, that maybe Jae owes him to fill in the blanks of his side, too, despite his updates via post cards.</p><p>“I remember when I first arrived here,” Jae wistfully starts, “I couldn’t believe that this was the house Younghyun wanted us to live in. It’s big, it’s peaceful, and it has the ocean right in front of the door. I’d only had those papers from his safe before, so I didn’t know what it looked like. You remember them? The papers that we’d found on the night of the coup?”</p><p>“Yeah, how could I ever forget about that?” Wonpil chuckles, and it is at least something. Jae counts it as a win. “I was nervous that night. Had to take care of so many things, like, watching over you and making sure that you board this plane. And in the meantime, I had to poison Younghyun so that people believe him dead instead of only unconscious. Without Sungjin-hyung and Dowoonie…”</p><p>The silence comes back in full force, this time filled with so much more sadness than peace. Maybe it’s time for a topic change.</p><p>“What do you think about daisies?”</p><p>Wonpil stops taking his sip and slowly takes the mug down. Jae wants to chortle at the sight of Wonpil’s utterly confused expression, but a playful smirk has to be enough for now.</p><p>“Aren’t you allergic to them? Or to any other flower?”</p><p>Now Jae really laughs. “Doesn’t matter. Just—what do you think about Daisies? They’re pretty, right?”</p><p>“I guess,” Wonpil hesitantly agrees. “Why are you asking?”</p><p>Jae isn’t one to flaunt with the good things in his life. Although when he holds out his hand for Wonpil to inspect, he has to hide the small smile growing his lips behind his hand. Turning his head away from Wonpil, Jae can only feel Wonpil’s cold fingers softly grasping his hand and tugging it closer, thumbs caressing along his finger until they meet the silver band.</p><p>“When—” Jae hears a sharp inhale before Wonpil asks softer, “When did he ask you? He did ask you to marry him, right?”</p><p>“Not long ago. We’d planned on writing you guys about it.”</p><p>That night when Younghyun asked him? It was beautiful and everything Jae had ever wished for it to be. It wasn’t something special, though it still came as a surprise. They spent the day together, did their usual chores before they left the house for a small walk along the beach – until they found a small enclosed spot that was prettily decorated.</p><p>Jae first thought that they had stumbled upon a secret date spot where someone tried to woo their partner, only that Younghyun then sheepishly admitted that he did all of that for Jae. It started with a delicious dinner on a picknick blanket and ended with them stargazing while lying next to each other, their hands holding each other softly.</p><p>Only that Younghyun wasn’t watching the stars but Jae and whispered a small, “Marry me.” Jae had startled in his place and blinked at Younghyun because he thought he had misheard him. Except that Younghyun tugged him up while he stayed on his knee. His eyes were gleaming and shining like the stars in the sky, but Jae’s eyes were transfixed on the velvety box that Younghyun was suddenly holding up to him.</p><p>Jae said ‘yes’ before Younghyun could even repeat his question.</p><p>“Congratulation, Jae-hyung. I’m really happy for you guys.” Jae lets Wonpil play with his ring while he watches his face. The sadness lingering in Wonpil’s eyes doesn’t pass by Jae, but he also knows that it isn’t the right time to ask why. “I have always known that you and Younghyun-hyung belong together. I could—I still can see how much you both love each other.”</p><p>The smile that Wonpil gives him is one that is honest and beautiful in its own way. It is the same one he had always worn when he comforted him and his broken heart. Jae loves this smile and realizes that he has to cherish it even more now that he knows that it can be easily taken away.</p><p>“Thank you, Wonpil.”</p><p>Their coffees have long gone cold. Maybe it’s time to go back into the house and start the day. Jae should call in and take a day off in case Wonpil needs him or something bad happens. Because something always happens. He can feel it, like a small tremor under his skin, as if something is there but then not. Living on edge again, paranoia that will fill his days and nights, fear that squeezes his chest to the point of suffocating.</p><p>“I’m sorry,” Wonpil suddenly says.</p><p>And they both know why.</p><p>~~~</p><p>It tickles. Jae cringes his neck and pulls away from Younghyun’s breath as he peppers Jae’s skin with small kisses. He can’t help the chuckle that escapes his mouth at Younghyun’s tickling, and he nearly lets go of the pan that he is rinsing in the sink.</p><p>“S-Stop,” Jae pleads with the younger who has Jae pressed against the counter and caught between his arms. There is no space at all to turn around and kiss Younghyun awake form that blissful sleepy state he always is after waking up minutes ago.</p><p>“But I missed you,” Younghyun pouts against Jae’s neck. His deep and raspy voice rouses the butterflies in Jae’s stomach and excites a feeling that thrums through his body. His pouty lips graze against his skin, softer and firmer to stop the tickle and get a better taste of Jae. “You weren’t next to me when I woke up.”</p><p>“Well, someone had to make breakfast,” Jae clicks his tongue and swats his towel against Younghyun’s side to finally gain freedom from his strong arms. God, Jae loves those arms. “We have a hungry guest.”</p><p>Jae can feel how Younghyun’s head whips to the side in the way his lips brush his skin. The sudden tension tells him that he got aware of the third person in the room that is sitting at the table and watching the couples with an amused smile on his face.</p><p>“Good morning, hyung,” Wonpil greets Younghyun with a small wave. His voice sounds too teasing for Younghyun to not get offended. At least Jae is already used to it from years of being the targeted idiot of Wonpil’s teasing remarks.</p><p>As such, Younghyun only grumbles a curt ‘morning’ before he attaches himself onto Jae’s back like a leech and inhales Jae’s scent deeply. Jae, meanwhile, turns back to clean the last pan and completely ignores Younghyun usual antics.</p><p>Which is obviously very unusual for Wonpil.</p><p>“That I see the day that you two are so disgustingly in love with each other… Really, three years ago Jae would have punched me in the face if I’d told him that this is his future.”</p><p>“Then you should have met college Jae.”</p><p>No surprise here. Jae had anticipated that Younghyun would jump at the chance of exposing Jae’s embarrassing past. He did the same when Kevin had asked, when Mrs. Brown had invited him in for tea, or when—you get the point. Younghyun loves to parade around how much Jae was and still is in love with him. And Jae just lets him.</p><p>(Not without protest, though.)</p><p>“Wonpil clearly doesn’t need to hear college stories—” Jae half-heartedly starts his protest, one that gets quickly shot down by Wonpil.</p><p>“You never told me anything about your college life.”</p><p>Oh, right. Maybe Jae didn’t. In his time together with Wonpil, college life with Younghyun wasn’t exactly a topic he wanted to delve on for long enough – it was strange enough to work with his then ex.</p><p>Younghyun’s face lights up at the presented opportunity to talk about the love-struck tween that Jae once was.</p><p>“You should have seen him. He was all shy and rambling at first and then couldn’t keep his fingers off me.”</p><p>“As if you were any better. You came to my door in the middle of the night to get some—”</p><p>Jae yelps when Younghyun’s finger suddenly poke him into his side before he tugs Jae over for a loud smooch against Jae temple. Wonpil’s eyes crinkle with the furrow of his eyebrow, but the light smile on his face betrays the disgust he tries to show.</p><p>“I can’t help it if you are so hot,” Younghyun murmurs into his ear to which Jae blushes – well, there’s someone watching them with interested eyes. His ex-lover to be specific.</p><p>Wonpil chuckles again under his breath when Jae tries to push Younghyun’s face away. “Dowoonie would never—”</p><p>The silence that immediately surrounds them is tense and thick. Wonpil’s face falls back into its usual blankness, like a wall that builds itself around his heart to protect him from the harsh possibility of never seeing Dowoon again.</p><p>Seeing Wonpil like this, Jae just—he doesn’t know. The pain is the same, but the way they are feeling it— For Jae Dowoon is only a brother, but for Wonpil, he is everything. Dowoon is to Wonpil what Younghyun is to Jae; the person he wants to spend the rest of his life with.</p><p>It is Younghyun who disrupts the silence as he clears his throat. “I have to leave for work. There’s a meeting …” He hesitantly looks up to Jae, nodding lightly into Wonpil’s direction. A silent question.</p><p>Jae blinks. “Oh, right. Uhm, I can’t exactly take a day off with our planned—”</p><p>Oh. Oh! Both, Jae and Younghyun, widen their eyes when they suddenly remember their short vacation next week, a few days along the coast in a sort-of road trip. It was a surprise gift from Younghyun to celebrate their engagement, and Jae couldn’t exactly say no to him when Younghyun explained that the trip was solely for Jae to visit some places of his childhood, though their first destination was instantly determined: the old bar where they’d met.</p><p>“I guess I should cancel the booked rooms,” Younghyun sighs, while Wonpil looks at them with big, curious eyes. Jae jumps in to explain.</p><p>“We wanted to do a road-trip, but… yeah…”</p><p>“Oh. I’m sorry.”</p><p>When Wonpil looks down with a frown to the coffee between his hands, Jae feels his heart breaking a bit. He steps forward to his friend and takes his hands in his, a comforting smile on his lips.</p><p>“Don’t be. You’re more important. Our family is more important than that.”</p><p>It feels like everything is alright again when Wonpil smiles again, softly and warmly. Somehow it reminds Jae of their past when he had needed that comfort and Wonpil hadn’t hesitated to give it to him. A warm and soft smile on his lips that would then press kisses into his skin. Those kisses were more than comfort for Jae; with them he could always ignore the pain in his heart and listen to the small butterflies swarming his stomach.</p><p>After all, Jae had once loved Wonpil before he realized that no one could ever rival his love for Younghyun.</p><p>The sudden bang of a door makes Jae jump away from Wonpil, and once he looks behind his shoulder, Younghyun is long gone.</p><p>~~~</p><p>Thank god that old man had finally left the elevator. Something had been building steadily within him that his fingers had started to itch. He threw glances to the man next to him and when their eyes met, they both looked away with a small chuckle under their breath. There was something in the air, at least for Wonpil, but with him he could never be too sure.</p><p>They had a good week for once. Their nights weren’t filled with as many woke moments as before, and Wonpil could finally catch up with a lot of sleep. Their evenings and mornings contained of cuddle sessions, long and intimate baths, and sex on nearly every surface of their apartment. His apartment. That Wonpil was essentially living in as well.</p><p>It was simple. Just as simple as it was when that old man left the elevator and the door closed after him. One, two, and suddenly their lips were latching onto each other in a kiss that was less hungry than it was sweet. His hands lightly squished his cheeks and Wonpil just had to smile brightly at him because this was—he was—</p><p>“What’re you doing?” Wonpil asked when the other man didn’t stop squishing his cheeks and stared at Wonpil with a beam of his own.</p><p>“You’re cute,” was the answer he got before Wonpil was kissed again. He could close his eyes and really get into it. It was slow and soft, less tongue than as usual, and more feeling.</p><p>After all, Wonpil thought, maybe he loved this man. It was strange thinking that because it had all started out as two broken heart trying to mend each other, only that Wonpil now felt like breathing easily again and feeling putty in his arms.</p><p>“We’re nearly there, hyung,” Wonpil reminded him again and leaned back. The other hummed while his nose skimmed against Wonpil’s. Wonpil loved how the other’s bangs felt against his skin, loved how he had to look up to his lover, even with the glasses always in the way.</p><p>“You’re right,” Jae chuckled and then pressed his lips against Wonpil’s for a last time. They separated in the last second before the elevator opened its doors to the hallway in front of Sungjin’s office.</p><p>They had found each other in moments where they were nursing their broken hearts, Jae’s even more so than Wonpil. He had been the one who picked up Jae from the street where he had been crying and bleeding, patching him together and playing one song after another for comfort.</p><p>Wonpil usually never played in front of an audience as the music was part of his deeper and more complex feelings that he couldn’t really express, but it was his mother who loved to hear him play. His wonderful and loving mother who had passed away long ago and whose existence continued to live through Wonpil’s music.</p><p>That day when Wonpil had played Jae the song that he had initially written for only his mother to hear, he had looked at Jae and saw something in there that he suddenly got what Younghyun had once told him about Jae. The way he looked at people, Wonpil couldn’t help but always feel like someone Jae really cherished. Someone he looked up to, like the moon who saw the sun for the first time.</p><p>An impossible event, but one that had happened, nonetheless. Wonpil wasn’t the sun nor the moon, that was for sure, but maybe he could be a star in the sky. A little speckle that lit up Jae’s dark night, always there, always watching.</p><p>(Because Jae was the ghost that was wandering around with no goal in sight, a lost being on their search for peace.)</p><p>With time his heart had healed, and Wonpil, too, was ready to love again. He could feel the electric feeling rushing through his veins, the butterflies in his stomach, the smile that he always wore on his face as soon as he saw Jae.</p><p>And somehow, he had also hope that Jae was feeling the same. The signs were there. The smiles, the lingering looks, the cuddles – Jae was a fantastic lover, everything Wonpil could wish from one.</p><p>It had taken Wonpil exactly one good week to realize that he was pretty much in love with Jae.</p><p>It took Wonpil exactly one second to realize that Jae would never love him back like that.</p><p>Harsh reality set in the moment they entered the room and Wonpil was reminded of the usual – of Jae’s usual. He had this favorite seat in the room, the one that faced the window instead of the other people in the room, so it was only natural that Jae’s gaze would instantly fix on that spot and then walk towards it.</p><p>Only that someone else was already sitting in his seat when Jae and Wonpil arrived on scene. Someone that Jae then looked at with so much pain in his eyes that Wonpil had to physically withheld himself from punching Younghyun in the face, especially now that Wonpil was sure that he was in love with Jae. Except that Wonpil saw the stolen glances, the small moments when Jae wasn’t looking but Wonpil was, and what he saw was a man full of longing and regret.</p><p>Wonpil was only a star in the sky, but Younghyun was the moon that shone brightly even in the darkest nights. Jae and Younghyun, no matter how much they seemed to hate each other, were more farce than anything else. They both loved each other on a level that Wonpil was sure he could never feel. Their love was as deep as an ocean whereas Wonpil’s feelings only reached the shallow.</p><p>During that whole meeting, Wonpil smiled. He smiled while his thoughts were a mess. What an idiot he was. He did it again, fell in love with someone unavailable, although this situation could prove to be very complicated. There was a reason why Wonpil thought he could hope, and it made him clear that Jae, maybe, possibly, really loved him, only not as deeply as Younghyun. Did he know about it? Or should Wonpil talk to him?</p><p>He was so deeply in thought that he didn’t notice the hand on his knee. He thought that Jae would seek comfort from Wonpil with Younghyun in the room and all. But then it hit him that Jae wasn’t sitting next to him. It was someone who was attentively listening to what Sungjin was talking about.</p><p>It surprised Wonpil in every way. Not because he wouldn’t have pegged Dowoon for someone that attentive, no, he just had never thought that Dowoon would pay any attention to him. So, it spurred his surprise even more when the meeting finished and Dowoon asked him if he wanted to meet him in the bar that night.</p><p>Wonpil said yes without any hesitation.</p><p>The bar referred to the club that Dowoon would own in the future, but one that was currently led by an older man who was still loyal to the Kang family and not Sungjin. A thorn in Sungjin’s flesh, one that Wonpil was long ready to take out but still waited for the signal to do so. Dowoon wasn’t ready, Sungjin had explained to him with a deep sigh. And, well, what Sungjin said was Wonpil’s command.</p><p>Exotic dancers were hurrying around to get ready for business while Wonpil and Dowoon approached the bar. The staff nodded their heads to Dowoon who greeted them back with a friendly smile, all respectfully so. Wonpil was in awe that they treated Dowoon as if he were the owner instead of that old man that was always hiding in the back.</p><p>“What can I get for you?”</p><p>Wonpil slowly sat down on one of the barstools and smiled amusedly at the younger who stood behind the bar and readied the tumbler for a possible drink. The way he grinned so dorkily yet so shily somehow touched something within Wonpil.</p><p>“Surprise me,” was what he eventually settled on. He played with his finger along his lip, curious as to what Dowoon thought he would like.</p><p>There was something in the air, Wonpil thought. Hurt, yes, because he was heartbroken in every way. Tonight would be the first night in a long time that he didn’t spend by Jae’s side. His heart ached for the older, and Jae’s messages didn’t make it any easier to forget about him at least a bit.</p><p>But there was also something else in the air. The music that played was a slower, a somewhat melancholic melody that brought some home with it. His heart felt like breaking and healing at the same time. He started lightly swaying to it and mouthed the lyrics along. The similarity of the situation didn’t go pass him.</p><p>
  <em>We’ve met in a bar. He sang a song and I fell for him pretty much at that point.</em>
</p><p>It wasn’t much later that Dowoon put a glass in front of him that looked like a mojito. Dowoon sheepishly scratched his neck after he set a small lemon on the rim.</p><p>“It’s the only thing I can mix,” Dowoon then admitted with a small pout when Wonpil looked at the drink instead of taking it. It was endearing and made Wonpil take a hesitant sip, one that turned into a big gulp once he realized that it tasted decent. Actually, it was really good.</p><p>“I like it.” Dowoon always got so shy and red when anyone, especially Wonpil Jae had once told him, complimented him. “Maybe you should try your hand in bartending.”</p><p>Dowoon shook his head and chuckled in embarrassment. “Sungjin-hyung would be devastated. His nagging would be endlessly.”</p><p>They both chuckled at the truth to Dowoon’s word. “Don’t worry, though.” Wonpil smiled at the younger. “Sungjin-hyung is actually a big softy. If you tell him that you want to become a bartender instead, he’ll see to it that you get the best bartender job in the city.”</p><p>There was definitely something in the air that Wonpil was hesitant to pick up on because Dowoon suddenly leaned forward on the counter and smiled brightly at Wonpil. They usually weren’t more than two friends talking to each other, but today it was different. Maybe it was the way that Dowoon’s eyes gleamed in the light, maybe it was the broken heart that Wonpil tried to hide so desperately.</p><p>
  <em>There was something in his eyes that made me wonder if it was prettier than the stars.</em>
</p><p>“You’re probably the only person who knows of hyung’s soft side. For me, it’s only a myth.” Dowoon then leaned further to Wonpil and glanced from left to right as if to gossip. “Tell me… is it true that hyung sings trot under the shower?”</p><p>It took him a moment but Wonpil threw his head in his neck and bellowed a loud laughter. How long hadn’t he laughed that much? It felt relieving to forget about his pain for a moment and to let things go.</p><p>“You shouldn’t say such things aloud,” Wonpil scolded him with a bright smile on his lips that Dowoon mirrored with a grin of his own. In fact, he was so cute that Wonpil shyly looked down and started to stir the mojito, using the pick to crush the lemons on the bottom of the glass. “Hyung doesn’t want anyone to know that he’s a sucker for corny ballads.”</p><p>“No, really?” Dowoon gasped in fake surprise, making them both giggling again.</p><p>
  <em>When I think back to that moment, I love it as much as I curse it.</em>
</p><p>Their laughter slowly faded to the calm sound of the music along with the easiness around them. Wonpil lost his smile rather quickly. The upturn of his lips was one that was sad instead of amused, bitter like the lemons in his cocktail.</p><p>“Are you okay?”</p><p>Dowoon’s voice was unbelievably soft and deep, a mere whisper that was still heard over the slow rhythm of the music. Wonpil swallowed before he leaned back in his seat, his shoulders dropping in defeat. Maybe it was for the better to let go of his feelings. Jae wasn’t an option to vent them out and Wonpil would prefer to die than to talk about it with Sungjin – though Sungjin had once proven that he was a really great listener. Still, Wonpil would feel awkward to talk about his feelings with the person who was responsible for the mess, which was the reason why he couldn’t talk about it with Younghyun as well. Younghyun deserved to be punched by Wonpil and nothing else.</p><p>Plus, Dowoon looking so softly and warmly at him made Wonpil’s heart melt, so that he wanted to trust this man.</p><p>“I guess I’m in love with Jae-hyung.”</p><p>No preamble, no explanation, that’s it. What was there more to tell? Dowoon certainly didn’t need more as his smile widened into one of pity as he understood the situation instantly.</p><p>“I thought as much.” Wonpil huffed a laughter at that. People already didn’t give Wonpil enough credit to be that observant, but it was actually Dowoon who surpassed them. Sure, he would never beat Jae on picking up cues and emotions from other people, but where it was Jae’s flaw to be blind toward anyone he was emotionally invested with, Dowoon started to shine for his careful thoughts.</p><p>“You should watch more dramas,” Dowoon jokingly advised him. “Then you would have known that someone is always catching feelings in that friends with benefit thing.”</p><p>“You just read too much fanfiction,” Wonpil called him out on the secret hobby that Dowoon had once drunkenly confessed to him. Dowoon feigned hurt and started to pout.</p><p>“Fanfiction is a prime source for relationship drama.”</p><p>“Just because you aren’t in a relationship.”</p><p>“That I am not.”</p><p>
  <em>Knowing that I can’t ever be by his side anymore, it’s breaking my heart in thousand shards.</em>
</p><p>Their gazes met and neither dared to disrupt their connection with something lingering in the air between them. Wonpil would never have thought that Dowoon had it in him to look like that, all serious and empathetic at the same time. He had always struck him as more of the innocent and naïve type.</p><p>“But Jae-hyung doesn’t love you back?”</p><p>Dowoon’s simple question broke that trance, and Wonpil averted his eyes to fix it on his half-empty cocktail. He tried to smile, he actually did smile, but it was more of a mask than the truth.</p><p>Wonpil shrugged in answer at first, but then worded his reply when Dowoon didn’t stop looking at him with those questioning eyes. “Does it matter?”</p><p>“Well, he’s single and boyfriend is only label that you have to attach to whatever you’re doing.” And Dowoon had a point, really, one that had been ghosting around in Wonpil’s mind ever since his epiphany.</p><p>“Dowoon.” He tried to be firm and serious, except he sounded tired and deeply upset. A sip of his cocktail, the bitter taste of alcohol running on his tongue along to the taste of lemons, chilled and cool. “I would be an idiot to give in to the illusion that Jae can become happy with me. I am nothing compared to Younghyun-hyung. Jae and he are… I don’t know, destined by fate or so.”</p><p>The sudden thumb of a glass pounded onto the table made Wonpil whip his head up on alert. What he saw was Dowoon pouring in two shots of soju, elegantly and gracefully with one hand perfectly hiding the label, the other on his elbow, Wonpil first and then himself. He nodded for Wonpil to drink it and then downed his own afterwards.</p><p>Then a refill.</p><p>Wonpil waited with bathed breath before he took his second shot, keeping his eyes on Dowoon as the younger seemed to contemplate something. His lips twitched in an urge to say something and Wonpil waited patiently, setting down his shot once again when Dowoon put down his own.</p><p>“Can I be honest with you, hyung?” He only continued when Wonpil nodded. “We both know how much Younghyun-hyung loves Jae-hyung. Anyone who has eyes can see how much Younghyun-hyung loves Jae-hyung, just like everyone knows how much Jae-hyung loves Younghyun-hyung even though neither of them wants to show it.”</p><p>Dowoon stopped and shook his head, taking the shot between his fingers and downing it quickly. The intensity in his eyes baffled Wonpil in that moment as much as he found the furrow of Dowoon’s eyebrows endearing.</p><p>“I’ve always thought that it was really shitty of you to make a move on Jae-hyung.”</p><p>“What?” Wonpil’s eyes widened at Dowoon’s sudden confession.</p><p>Although the younger looked as if he struggled with the idea of throwing the hard facts at Wonpil’s head, he was firm and determined. There was a fire burning in his eyes.</p><p>“I know this sounds mean, but—I first thought that maybe I think so because I’m jealous. But then I saw Younghyun-hyung crying and realized— He’s our brother and you hurt him so much.”</p><p>Dowoon was right, Wonpil knew, but at the same time he wanted to yell everything that Jae had told him about Younghyun. He wanted to tell Dowoon the story how he found Jae half-dead where Younghyun had left him, how Younghyun had abandoned Jae after he blindly followed him into a life that kept destroying Jae with every second. Wonpil wanted to tell him so much, but he didn’t. Instead he sat there, frozen, and listened to all the things that suddenly spilled out of Dowoon.</p><p>“I don’t know what exactly happened between Younghyun-hyung and Jae-hyung, but Younghyun-hyung was so drunk that night and he didn’t stop talking about Jae-hyung. He showed me his notebook with so many songs and said they are all about Jae-hyung and… honestly, I cried while I read them.”</p><p>Jae loved Younghyun’s songs. Wonpil didn’t know why he knew that fact, but Jae had worn this beautiful gaze when Wonpil had said something that reminded Jae of Younghyun’s songs. That was the reason why he fell for Jae in the first place. But Jae also liked Wonpil’s compositions and lyrics if he wrote some. Wasn’t it the same gaze in a way?</p><p>Wonpil started to squirm in his seat and felt worse with every sentence thrown at him. Dowoon was right, yes, he knew it, but at the same time, he wasn’t. Wonpil, too, was entitled to have earned Jae’s love and just because Younghyun had been there first didn’t mean that Wonpil couldn’t have Jae’s heart as well. It’s ultimately Jae who had to decide between them.</p><p>Yet, Dowoon still wasn’t finished with his tirade. And by the way he looked at Wonpil, all light anger suddenly vanished for worry and softness, and Wonpil just—what was he supposed to answer?</p><p>“I understand that you only did what your heart told you to, which I can’t be mad about.” Dowoon shook his head and suddenly reached for Wonpil’s hand to hold it carefully between his own. “But hyung… is Jae-hyung worth the pain? If you tell me that you see a future with him, one where you two love each other without Jae-hyung’s heart belonging to someone else, then I will never speak about it again. But if not… I only worry about you, hyung.”</p><p>Did he? See a future of him and Jae happily in each other’s arms? Wonpil could answer this instantly. Because that’s the reason why he sat here with Dowoon, right? In the end, it would always be Jae and Younghyun. There was no place for Wonpil. He and Jae didn’t have a future together, full-stop.</p><p>What a cruel world.</p><p>“When did you grow up so much, Dowoonie?”</p><p>Wonpil tugged on the hand and laid his forehead against it to hide his face. Dowoon, though, took it a step further. He rounded the bar, not once letting go of Wonpil’s hand, and engulfed him in a bear hug to shield Wonpil’s face from the many patrons filtering into the club. There were no tears to hide or embarrassment to see, but Wonpil felt grateful, nonetheless.</p><p>Dowoon’s embrace was warm and comforting, he could close his eyes and feel… safe.</p><p>Especially when Dowoon started to sway them back and forth in the rhythm of a slow song. It hit different then, and Wonpil had to murmur the lyrics under his breath, grasping tightly onto Dowoon’s jacket.</p><p>
  <em>I wish I had told him ‘I love you’ a last time before it was too late.</em>
</p><p>~~~</p><p>A slow day. Jae did all of his orders in the morning and decided to come to the front of the store after one of his workers called in sick to help Ashley. Just, there isn’t much to do when only a few people find their way into the coffee shop. Ashley is somewhere in the back baking cookies while Jae manages the register. He stares out of the window, following the people that pass by with his eyes.</p><p>At least he can be happy about the fact that it’s a slow day. He hadn’t slept that much the last few nights, and his mind always wanders back to Wonpil. Even though Wonpil promised that he’d call if anything happens, Jae can’t stop worrying about the younger. Plus, he is also worried of Younghyun. His fiancé had already been gone when Jae was searching for him after making sure that Wonpil was okay. It’s unusual for Younghyun to leave without a word.</p><p>His mind always strays to past times when everything had been alright, except that it reminds him of what Wonpil had told them about Dowoon and Sungjin and everything that had happened in Seoul, and his heart sinks in his chest with the horrifying thought that he had maybe lost his brothers.</p><p>Thankfully the bell over the door chimes with the sudden arrival of a customer. Jae straightens his back and smiles brightly at the young customer striding through the coffee shop with wide and curious eyes. His smile slowly dims when he sees the face of the boy. Asian, young, rich. Bleached yellow hair, pouty lips, bright blue contact lenses, crème colored suit. He looks like he owns at least ten coffee shops, all inherited by his rich father.</p><p>The boy smiles charmingly at Jae once he finally reaches the counter and Jae mirrors the smile as well as he can.</p><p>“Welcome! What can I get for you?”</p><p>The boy doesn’t look up to their menu like all the other new customers would do, instead he keeps eye contact with Jae. It’s unnerving him a bit.</p><p>“What can you recommend me?” The boy asks in a heavily accented English. Jae gets wary of him, something’s iffy with him, he can feel it.</p><p>Jae cocks his head, smiling, eyes squinting in thought. “I make a mean Vanilla Latte.”</p><p>The boy’s smile widens when Jae answers in Korean, though he isn’t surprised or delighted but more… as if he’d known that Jae would say exactly that.</p><p>“Then I take one of that.”</p><p>Usually if they have only one customer, Jae wouldn’t bother with it, except that he is very curious about the guy, so he takes the marker and a cup and asks, “What’s your name?” Lie and Jae will know about it. Tell him the truth, then… well, then Jae will see.</p><p>The boy’s gaze is challenging and his smile not once wavering. But he finally tears his eyes away to scout the place again. His eyebrows rise, his tone friendly. “It’s a nice coffee shop. I like the style.”</p><p>Jae ticks his eyebrow at the strange comment. Strange, indeed. His coffee shop doesn’t look that much different from the next as it wasn’t Jae who took the time to decorate it. He had just bought it from the previous owner and let things be as they were.</p><p>“Thanks,” Jae says, nonetheless, his one eyebrow still raised as he has his pen poised against the cup and waits for a name.</p><p>It’s hard to not let his own smile fall when the boy only cocks his head with that saccharine sweet smile. His earrings dangle with the movement, two crosses ornamented in gold. Two guys who don’t want to talk, both waiting for answers the other won’t give. Jae knows this game, had played it once well enough to get rid of two kingpins at the same time, yet one is still haunting him to the day.</p><p>With a huff Jae nearly throws the pen away and turns to make the latte. The situation’s too stupid, he’ll reach thirty in a few months and some punk dares to challenge him to a game that Jae had mastered long ago.</p><p>It’s silent between them when Jae is making the latte. He never lets the boy out of his sight, too cautious for that. Or paranoid. Call it what you want; Jae isn’t that dumb to make such a mistake. He learnt from his run-in a few days ago, especially now that he knows that Kim Namjoon is hunting them down.</p><p>His own smile is sickly sweet when he turns back to the boy with the drink put between them. His other hand wanders under the counter where he has a gun stored as a safety measure after one guy had tried to rob the shop when Ashley managed the counter. The girl was traumatized from the incident and couldn’t feel safe at work anymore until Jae showed her the gun and put it right there.</p><p>The boy throws some dollar bills on the counter, and Jae says nothing about the horribly high sum.</p><p>A sigh escapes the boy’s throat after a small sip and the fake smile dims into an honest one. His eyes crinkle in happiness as he looks cheekily at Jae. Something about it strikes Jae as very familiar. “This is good. I’ll make sure to come back again.”</p><p>And if this isn’t a threat, then Jae needs to revisit his old days again.</p><p>“Maybe a name would get you some discount?”</p><p>The boy’s smile widens at Jae’s flirting tone. There is a glint in his eyes that Jae knows too well. The familiarity of it suddenly overwhelms him.</p><p>“Ah, I guess it’s only fair to tell you mine. Otherwise you’ll forget my face too soon, right?” His eyes flick down to Jae’s name tag. He chuckles before he reads aloud, “Jae Park.”</p><p>Jae takes back what he thought of the boy. He isn’t that rich boy who got the money from his dad – he is more like a model, all shine and bling and innocence when in reality, something dark is lurking behind his eyes. Don’t judge a book by its cover, they say, and Jae agrees.</p><p>He has read too many books to know that their cover is all shine and bling to hide the cruelty in it.</p><p>~~~</p><p>Never in his two years before has Jae driven that fast home. He’s sure he drives over some reds, but it doesn’t matter in the face of whatever is lurking in the shadow. Not when the man that came into the coffee shop with a name on his lips that sounded too fake to be real poses a potential thread to his family.</p><p>Reaching his home, he stumbles through his door, doesn’t take the time to see if Younghyun is home by now or where Wonpil is currently hiding. The only thing that counts is that he reaches their small office next to the guest room.</p><p>Jae halts instantly when he sees the scene.</p><p>Wonpil and Younghyun’s heads whip to him the moment he whirls into the room, Younghyun’s hand plucking at the strings of the guitar to silence it and Wonpil sitting on the floor clutching his hurt side with a calm face. Jae would ask what he missed but now isn’t the right time.</p><p>“Welcome home,” Wonpil doesn’t miss the chance to greet him, pouts when Jae ignores him in favor of getting to the cupboard and pushing the buttons to their safe.</p><p>He hears the plumb sound of Younghyun putting the guitar on the ground and steps coming closer. Maybe he can read the tension in Jae’s shoulder or maybe it’s the fact that Jae is currently opening the safe that only Jae knows the code of because that’s where he stores his past in – literally.</p><p>“What’s going on?”</p><p>Jae pushes Younghyun out of the way after he grabs his old notebooks in there and spreads them haphazardly out on the desk. He skims page for page and takes in all of his written notes; one name follows the other, some accompanied by a picture and some not.</p><p>If his suspicion is right, then that means that they’re fucked.</p><p>“What’s wrong?”</p><p>Younghyun suddenly presses his chest against Jae’s back and looks at the books over Jae’s shoulder. His hand clamps around Jae’s shoulder with slow ministrations to calm Jae down. It’s the same thing he always does when Jae is on the brink of having another attack. Maybe now it’s the case, too, but Jae is a tad too panicked to think about it.</p><p>That boy gave him a wrong name, yes, but it’s a name that Jae is very familiar with.</p><p>“Someone came into my coffee shop today.” The hand stills on Jae’s shoulders. Younghyun tries to catch Jae’s eyes, but Jae only looks down to his notebook and stares at sparkling brown eyes framed by bright blue hair. “He said his name is Beomgyu.”</p><p>“Are you sure?” Wonpil huffs and grunts when he stands up, then calmly walks over to where Jae stands. He stops once he sees Younghyun’s wary glance.</p><p>Jae chuckles in false amusement. “Of course, it wasn’t Beomgyu. How can I forget that face?”</p><p>And it seems that Younghyun has finally caught on that name as well. “Wait, isn’t Beomgyu the guy who spied on Chan for you? What does that—”</p><p>Jae holds the book up for Younghyun to see. A picture of the boy from Jae’s coffee shop today greets Younghyun’s eyes, his smile friendly with big doe eyes and striking blue hair. “That’s the guy who visited me today.”</p><p>“And he’s important enough to be in your book,” Younghyun breathes with realization. “Who is he?”</p><p>“Choi Yeonjun.”</p><p>“One of Bangtan’s elite members,” Wonpil adds. His eyes wide as his lips quiver. He heavily leans against the desk with his head bowed. “I’m so sorry, hyung, they found you because of me…”</p><p>“It’s okay,” Jae shakes his head and snakes an arm around Wonpil’s mid to support him. He feels the younger’s body leaning into him, a shaky exhale leaving his mouth. “They would’ve found us one way or another, no matter if you were here or not.”</p><p>Jae really believes so. He and Younghyun don’t go to great lengths to hide from their old lives. They send every month a postcard from a town nearby, use their old names, and live in a house that Younghyun had bought when they were still in Seoul. But they feel safe here, are prepared for every situation.</p><p>“Maybe we should set our emergency plan in motion.” Younghyun’s voice slices through a thick silence that has Jae wincing because he knows what will follow.</p><p>Once Yeonjun had left the coffee shop, Jae was back in his office and went through every possible outcome in his mind, including the possibility of Yeonjun being a Bangtan member. The words that he is about to say pain him much, especially because his and Younghyun’s relationship has been strained ever since Wonpil arrived.</p><p>“I think we should stay.” Jae can see the disbelief growing on Younghyun’s face. Wonpil leans even further into Jae’s side when Jae tenses at Younghyun’s frown settling deep on his face. “If we run now, we’ll miss the chance to get the upper hand.”</p><p>Younghyun slowly shakes his head. “What upper hand? Staying now is the dumbest thing we can do.”</p><p>“No, it’s not. Look, Younghyun,” Jae starts to plead. He wants to take a step toward Younghyun, but Wonpil keeps him rooted where he is. He can’t move with his wound and Jae doesn’t want to hurt him. “So far only Yeonjun has found me, right? We could catch him and ask for information – that would be the best next step. Until then we’ll keep our heads down and our ears open.”</p><p>“That’s suicide. Namjoon probably already knows where we are and in case you forgot, he is the fucking kingpin of Seoul! We don’t stand a chance against him. We can’t start a war with that many innocent people around us.”</p><p>“Exactly. If we run away, who knows what Namjoon will do to all our innocent neighbors? There are already enough casualties in my ledger. I like them too much to just leave them to their fate.”</p><p>“I think we should go,” Younghyun declares firm, his finger tapping against the desk to underline his point. His furrowed eyebrows go deeper, his eyes are glazed over. There is an emotion in there that Jae can’t name, but it chokes him at the same time.</p><p>For Jae, he can’t leave this place. He would do anything to protect his neighbors, those lovely people that welcomed him and Younghyun with wide arms and made them part of their community. Jae had run away from his problems often enough and running gets harder with a wounded man by his side.</p><p>When Jae is about to explain his thoughts, how he is standing between two worlds, one he doesn’t want but is still there and one he wants so much but still can’t have, it is Wonpil who suddenly pipes up with a clear and firm,</p><p>“Jae is right. We should capture Yeonjun and make him talk.”</p><p>“Jesus Christ—” Younghyun curses and clutches his hair. “Of course, you’re on Jae’s side. How else would it be?!”</p><p>“Younghyun—” Jae tries to warn him to not lash out at Wonpil, but Younghyun only shrugs him off with a glare and walks out of the room.</p><p>Yet, before he leaves, he mutters a loud enough, “You’re digging our graves, Jae. I’m gonna say ‘told you’ when it doesn’t work.”</p><p>There is that thing with retro-perspective. Right in this moment Jae feels a certain warmth filling him. He knows that Younghyun disagrees with his plan, yet he decides to stay with them. Jae can always be sure that Younghyun will stay by his side, it’s reassuring. It’s love.</p><p>But in hindsight, this is the moment where everything will start to break apart. Jae knows how a life without Younghyun looks like – but he never thought that he will experience it ever again.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Next chapter things will finally escalate</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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